Swipe Right For Her Was The Right Swipe For Him
by Foxissofoxy
Summary: Michonne has been divorced for two years and she is ready to start dating. Rick was her one and only swipe to the right when making an instant match. Unfortunately, she wasn't aware she was His second swipe right match. (AU/Possible OOC) Using Titus from Kimmy Show.
1. Get Over It!

"Hearts will break and people will hurt you, darling." Her mother said. "But when you let those people control your outlook on your life, you only allow them to have a greater hold on your happiness. Once you accept the fact that every day is a new day to begin again, life becomes a much easier path to walk."  
 **― Courtney Giardina, Holding on to Georgia**

* * *

"Daddy said you need to get over it."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Daddy says he can't move forward if you are always trying to break his neck looking backward."

Michonne considered what her young son was telling her. She considered voicing her thoughts out loud. Instead, she kept what was ready to spill forward from her lips to her son's ear, to herself.

 _Country ass motherfucker. If it weren't for me, he would still be in the front of a street corner liquor store, fist bumping._

If it weren't for Michonne believing in his potential and paying his way through college, pushing him to finish he would be just another statistic or a below Average Mike if she were telling the story.

She changed the subject.

"Andre, are you going to behave at school today? I can't keep going to your class to monitor what you are doing when I have a job to do."

"Keeping the bad guys behind bars." Andre smiled.

"And keeping the good guys from behind bars too. Don't you ever forget that, okay?" Michonne kissed his cheek.

"Okay, Mommy." He gave her a quick peck back.

"Where's your lunch box?"

"Right here." Andre lifted his hand that clutched the Power Rangers lunch box to show he had it.

"Where's your bookbag?"

Andre smiled and turned to show his mother that he had it strapped to his back.

"Good."

Michonne gave her son another once-over, making sure he was presentable in his school uniform. Checking the time on the large grandfather clock in the corner she knew the bus would soon arrive at the end of their driveway.

"Mom, where's my bracelet?" Abigail asked completely flustered.

Michonne knew where the bracelet was. She had spent five minutes trying to fight the desire to toss the gold charm bracelet in the trash while giving the impression she didn't have a clue to what happened to it. She thought better of that too.

The bracelet was from Andrea. Andrea was her former friend and now her kid's stepmother.

Andrea, the husband stealer, had purchased the expensive piece of jewelry and had given it to Abigail as a recent birthday present. This particular gift was still her daughter's favorite. Just looking at the bracelet on her daughter's wrist was like a tiny dagger that twisted in Michonne's gut. To have someone she had known for years, someone she considered a sister and trusted with her life become the very person that hurt her the most was painful. Unforgivable. Michonne could hold a grudge.

"Abigail, it is where you had left it. Now, I have told you, young lady, I am no longer going to clean up after you. I am not. You are eight years old now. You have to keep track of your own things. That is what your jewelry box is for. Remember the jewelry box your Dad had designed just for you, for your birthday?"

Michonne had one hand on her hip watching her daughter try to recall before retracing her steps to the moment the bracelet was unclasped. To speed up the process Michonne tipped her head toward the kitchen. The bracelet was on the kitchen table.

The sound of the school bus making its way to their home had her children eager to leave. She watched them run to the end of the driveway while she monitored from the open front door, holding her briefcase in one hand and waving with the other. She smiled genuinely at the bus driver who came to a halt. Michonne waited until her children boarded safely and were seated. It was customary for her daughter and son along with a few other children aboard the bus to wave from the window. A good chuckle, Michonne continued to wave back at the youngsters who were happy to be on their way to school. Closing the door and locking it, she grabbed her keys from the credenza and entered the garage where her white Mercedes was parked.

Two years since the divorce she was still bitter. Michonne had made slight improvements in dealing with the betrayal from her best friend and her husband, but it was hardly close to receiving a pat on the back. She still wanted to chop Mikes dick off and sever Andrea's head clean off her shoulders if she could get away with it. If it wasn't for her children, she knew she would have the capability to wreak havoc on the lovebirds. She dealt with criminals, and she also could sympathize with those who snapped. She had connections to the underworld. There were a few that owed her a favor.

She thought of hiring someone to slash tires and poison Andrea and Mike. She came to her senses when she plotted each act of revenge with a consistent detail to each event she could not ignore and it was getting caught. Yes, the ones that owed her a favor were all caught eventually or accused of this or that. If she were to take the matters in her own hands she would more than likely be caught red-handed with the dripping bloody knife in her hands.

Instantly her phone had connected to her car. She had a missed call.

Rick.

She couldn't help the smile that worked it's way across her lips. She felt light. Negative energy seemed to vanish, and butterflies fluttered in spaces that were no longer dark and void. Everything on the outside appeared more vibrant, and it felt great to have a distraction from the routine she developed with being a single parent.

"Call Rick," Michonne commanded her voice assistant while she drove in the direction of her office. After four rings she got his voicemail. She decided quickly against leaving a message. It wasn't that she didn't know what to say, well it was that, but it was also how it all made her feel breathless. She didn't want her nervous energy to come across in her voice.

Within seconds her phone rang. It was Rick. Michonne couldn't fight the smile on her face. She was feeling lighter and lighter. This was going on for over a month, the back and forth, long conversations in the night about their life. They have yet to go on a date or meet up. The rush she felt had her speechless.

"Hello?"

"Hi," Michonne said almost shyly.

"Hey. Sorry I missed your call. I was in the middle of a heated debate."

"Debates at this hour of the morning?"

"Yeah. The testosterone can get pretty crazy around here."

"Do you care to elaborate?"

"Nah. It would have to be experienced. Basically, you would have to have been here, present to get the gist. Anything else would take it out of context."

"Ah. The whole picture." Michonne had a brightly lit smile on her face.

"Yeah. How's your morning, so far?"

"Andre had his lunchbox and bookbag. The Power Ranger idea was great. Thanks."

"Yeah. You have to think like a boy his age. Do you want something plain or something cool?"

"Hey, don't you dare knock a plain black bookbag and a brown bag lunch." Michonne tried not to giggle.

Michonne loved that he wanted to lift her mood and that she could somehow do it for him. His voice had a charming southern drawl that he insists was her imagination.

He chuckled, "Now you shouldn't have any problem with him forgetting things."

"I will hold you to that."

"I would like for you to hold me to _that_. Whatever _that_ is."

"Why do you do _that_?"

"'Cause _that_ is fascinating?"

"Fascinating huh?"

"Yes. That the prospects of _THAT_ could be endless in which you might want to _HOLD_ me too."

"Why can't I get enough of this?" Michonne was really enjoying him and their crazy banter.

"Um, _this?_ _This_ has the same magnitude of endless possibilities since _this_ and _that_ has endless connotations." Rick had paused for a moment to give into laughter before continuing, " _This seems to_ amuse you?"

"Yes. You've made my morning." There was a brief silence as they both had to clear their throats and Rick got himself back on track.

"You have said that your son is book smart. Everything else comes in time."

"Oh! So is that your disclaimer?" Michonne pounced.

"Yes," Rick laughed again. "I have a meeting in 10 minutes, and I have yet to make it to my office and boot up my computer. Can I call you tonight? Same time?"

"Yes. I would like that."

"Good."

"Tonight."

"Have a good day, Michonne."

"You too, Rick."

Once the call was over Michonne was honked twice for stopping at a green light. She stopped when she should GO and the idea of stopping when the traffic signal was clearly red never crossed her mind until she was almost T-Boned.

* * *

"Good Gawd! So glad that meeting is over with the janitorial contract for this office. Yes! You have my full attention now. Tell me everything. Every single detail."

Titus entered the office with his usual flamboyant energy. He waltzed over to the enormous fish aquarium where a single fish swam and sprinkled a tiny amount of food in the tank. Flipper the fish seemed to have survived a very long journey and was a symbol of good wealth and prosperity for such a long time.

Titus had worked for Michonne at the original firm as her number one paralegal. The legal team consisted of his new boss and Michonne's then-husband, Mike and the dear friend, Andrea plus 50 other lower level attorneys and 20 additional paralegals. It was Titus who had brought it to her attention that things were a little too chummy between the other two office heads. When the legal firm split, he was the one who did the full Dorothy Boyd character when Michonne wanted to know if anyone was willing to follow her out like the scene in Jerry Macguire. She was a drunk female Jerry.

 _"Well, don't worry. Don't worry. I'm not gonna to do what you all think I'm gonna to do, which is just FLIP OUT! But let me just let me just say, as I ease out of the office I helped build - I'm sorry, but it's a FACT! - that there is such a thing as manners, a way of treating people. I mean I shouldn't be the last to know that my husband and best friend were fucking each other behind my back which makes everyone complicit if aware of this fact. Well, now fully aware by my own admission."_

 _Michonne notices the fish tank nearby as she continued,_ " _These fish have manners. These fish have manners. In fact, they're coming with me. I'm starting a new company, and the fish will come with me. You can call me sentimental. The fish - they're coming with me." Aggressively she grabs_ _a fire-tailed Peruvian beauty fish with a cup and dumps the fish inside a baggie. "_ _Okay. If anybody else wants to come with me, this moment will be the moment of something real, and FUN, and inspiring in this god-forsaken business, and we will do it together. Who's comin' with me? Who's coming with me? Who's coming with me besides "Flipper," here?"_

 _Titus couldn't hold back his excitement as he raised his hands as if he was the winner on Price is Right, "Girl, I will so go with you. These people don't even know who the real attorney is. They will learn."_

 _"Okay, Flipper and Titus..."_

 _xxxxxxx_

"There is nothing to tell."

"Honey, I wasn't born an hour ago. Now spill the beans, potatoes, and gravy." Titus sat across from Michonne who had her elbows propped on her desk resting her head in the palm of her hands.

"I made a fool out of myself again," Michonne admitted. She didn't reveal that she had just called the man that wasn't answering her call when she dialed his number seconds before Titus had entered her office.

"You have been doing that a lot lately. Please tell me why?"

"I like him. Like, really _like_ him. Like, I think I love him, kind of like."

"What kind of elementary hellish language are we using today?"

"My gut is telling me he is the one."

Titus cautioned, "We have discussed this gut thing before. Your gut can't be trusted. It is the reason you rely on mine."

Michonne was close to revealing that she had just called, THE ONE but suppressed it from being spoken. The only words that would come out were the ones she repeated constantly when alone, "I am a fool."

"Stop beating yourself up. He was your first since your divorce. He was your first and only swipe to the right. Dear Jehovah, I was a witness. Little did that white man know you two would actually meet and do the DO that was so good to you- he created a stalker."

"I am not a stalker, Titus. I am a woman who was in need of closure."

"He was going to call the police on you, Michonne."

"He said his neighborhood watch would, not him. He wanted me to leave before someone did call but I had run out of gas. My purse was at home and within a minute the phone died..."

"Do you know it would have been a legit arrest for trespassing? You had nothing on you to identify you and the only thing the officer can see upon arrival is black person parked out in a white man's driveway in the dead of night. A tragedy waiting to happen." Titus shook his head, he wore a grieved look upon his face.

"I had run out of gas. My phone died and I left my purse at home." Michonne reiterated.

"Well, the police would have given you one phone call if you didn't verbally resist your arrest. I certainly pity the officers who would have allowed you to survive such an arrest. Either way, knowing what I know, it would be my black ass down at the station to bail you out." Titus sighed. What he spoke would have been the truth if things went completely south on the night in question.

"He pulled up behind me 15 minutes later."

"Was he scared shitless?"

"Why would he be afraid?"

"He had every reason. You were caught stalking him."

"I wasn't stalking him, Titus. I was demanding answers."

"And dick wasn't one of them?"


	2. Tenderoni

"The difference between sex and love is that sex relieves tension and love causes it."  
 **― Woody Allen**

* * *

"I thought you would hook up with that blonde," Tyrese smirked.

"Who, Jessie?" Rick turned his phone face down after deciding not to leave a voice message with his unexpected audience present.

"Yeah, what's up with that?"

Rick shrugged before going back to shaving.

"You've been ghosted?"

"Naw. I don't think so. Said she has her kids and the recent divorce. She's not ready. Said to give her some time."

"You waiting?"

"Got a text from her last night. She's ready this Saturday." Rick continued to make his jawline hairless with no nicks.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Every man should have a Tenderoni." Tyrese stood in the bathroom doorway watching his friend Rick shave.

"Yeah."

Rick quickly tackled the last bit of stubborn hair follicles above his upper lip. His mind was on Michonne with the long dreadlocks. He hadn't told anyone about her, and he had no immediate plans to do so.

"I think you need to have a few in every location within a twenty-mile radius of every GO Stop facility."

"Yeah." Rick eyed Tyrese from the mirror.

The single life definitely had its perks even though he kept the toilet seat down in his bathroom, the idea that he didn't have to leave it that way was something he did notice whenever he was finished relieving himself. Yes. He preferred the sight of it down and the lid closed. Preference after years of conditioning from his ex-wife Lori.

"Shane doesn't have any faith in you, but I do."

"Yeah?"

Rick was curious about where this faith was coming from when it was coming from either of the two men that was sharing the responsibility of rent payments in the large four bedroom bachelor pad. They were all divorced and actively dating.

Rick came on board late to the hectic life of juggling work, children, and dating after twelve years of marriage. Rick was finally able to accept that things weren't going to work out between him and his former wife even though they would occasionally still hook up for sex. He was hooked on the familiarity, and Lori was only swayed his way if she was enduring a drought in suitable partners.

The introduction to Tinder had been a fascinating endeavor for Rick. He found himself actively swiping to the left more than to the right. Once he got the hang of things based on Shane's basic explanation, Rick stopped looking for a girlfriend and focused on women he could hook up with when he was the horniest.

Rick had stumbled upon Michonne's profile before the full explanation was given to him by Shane regarding the only reason to go on Tinder was to find a fuck buddy-not another wife. He hadn't revealed to Shane that he had some good conversations with this particular match when he was of the mindset he wanted a steady girlfriend. Rick enjoyed texting, chatting and Facetime with Michonne to the point that he purposely made time to do it and refused to be interrupted by the men who shared his home.

Two of the main reasons why he continued with communicating with Michonne was because they had similar interests and they both were divorced with children. He didn't consider her a-Booty Call. She was someone he was carefully developing a genuine interest in knowing more about, and he felt the same from her.

"...I know you are getting your feet wet. You're not trying to do the relationship thing." Tyrese didn't realize he was informing a man whose mind was a million miles away.

Rick was confused. He wasn't sure what Tyrese wanted other than to get on his good side to borrow his car. It was practically the only thing that Lori didn't want in the divorce, and it was something he would have willingly parted with if it meant he could have his children the majority of the time. It didn't work out that way. Courts seemed to favor the woman more than not. Plus, Rick had no grounds to say or accuse Lori of being unfit. She wasn't any of those things. She was and is a fantastic mother.

"Why are we having this conversation?" Rick asked after splashing water on his face and wiping off the residual aftershave with a small white towel.

"I need a loan," Tyrese stated what he really needed.

"What?"

"Baby Mom's hitting me up again."

"How is that my problem?" Rick turned to eye the man he had known since high school. "I am not the baby daddy."

"You know I am good for it." Tyrese insisted.

"You just paid me back last night, only to borrow it back again in less than 24 hours?"

"Hey, have you seen my watch?" Shane rushed into the bedroom looking frantically at the two men.

"Your watch?"

"I think I have been fucking finessed." Shane accused.

"The woman from last night?"

"Not sure. Could have been the one from the night before. My Rolex is gone." Shane ran his fingers through his thick head of hair while the other was on his hip.

"See that is the exact point I was trying to make last night. Women are smart. They are always cautious. Especially the ones that know what they want. Background check, man. We men don't think like that necessarily. All we need, to give fast approval, is a nice face, tits, and ass. Not in that order but you know what I mean?" Tyrese said shaking his head after giving his commentary on what could have prevented the possible theft. "We have to know who we are fucking around with at all times."

"Shit is not that deep. I am not trying to merge with anyone long term." Shane responded to Tyrese about the background checks.

Rick tossed the towel in his sink, completely agitated by the news of a stolen watch. He grabbed his phone.

"We are going to have to set some ground rules. I think this is getting way out of hand. I don't want my shit missing. We either monitor who is in here at all times or I am going to have to turn the fucking cameras back on. I don't give two shits about an invasion of privacy in the common spaces. The last thing I want to do is come home to find everything hauled out of here." Rick stated firmly to the two men that were practically blocking his bathroom doorway.

"Turn the cameras on if you want."

Rick stepped between the two men that had him practically blocked.

He didn't care if he had permission. It was something he was going to do anyway.

"The cameras are in the fucking common areas. I don't have cameras in your fucking bedroom. Your perversion hasn't been filmed." Rick informed from his bedside where he put on his black socks.

"What was ole girl name again?" Tyrese asked Shane.

"Fuck," Shane recalled the fantasy woman turned Nightmare on Elm Street.

"The one that wanted a threesome." Tyrese chuckled.

"I was game," Shane admitted in disbelief how looking back he was out of his mind at that time.

"I wanted no part of it. I don't want anyone having my name part of any sordid fantasy. No. Not going to happen." Rick hurried and walked over to his dresser to grab his watch and place it on his wrist. He was glad that Shane stopped his dealings with that particular female who wanted him to participate.

"She was nuts." Tyrese laughed.

"She was crazy in bed." Shane relived the moments of pure bliss and then unfathomable pain that he experienced at the hands of the Dominatrix.

"I would probably watch the video, but I didn't want any parts of it, her, and that damn cat. I am turning the cameras back on again. This is my place, and I am exerting authority over this domain that I have chosen to share until I can get back on my feet and the dust settles with Lori. It will be just a matter of time I can move back to my home while she plays house with whoever she wants."

"I don't care about the Camera. That's Glen." Tyrese shrugged. He wanted it known that it didn't bother him because he had nothing to hide and he rarely brought females to the place he shared with his friends he grew up and graduated the very same college together.

"When will he be moving back in?" Shane asked not caring too much about the idea of having the younger friend around just like he didn't care for his presence when they were much younger.

"End of the week. Maggie has given him an ultimatum again." Rick informed them.

"Family in the way?" Tyrese took a stab at the rumored reason.

"Country and Chinese." Shane shook his head at the obvious difference between Maggie and Glen. He could never wrap his head around why a looker like Maggie would want Glen. And upon hearing the story that Maggie practically forced sex on Glen in the woods was just proof that Glen was fucking gay.

"I'm Korean, Jackass." Glen walked into the bedroom finding his friends inside and overhearing a bit of the conversation that referenced him. "I changed my mind about the cameras. We may just pinpoint the nose picker and dick scratcher." A well dressed Glen sized up Shane without flinching.

"Where in the hell you come from?" Shane asked with not an ounce of amusement.

"How did you get in?" Tyrese questioned.

"I have a key. The same key from last time."

"Rick had the locks changed though," Shane informed the younger man.

"Not because of you, Glen." Rick gave clarity to what it seemed or could appear from what Tyrese and Shane were implying.

"Lucky for me I didn't have to use it. The door was left wide open, and a Rolex laying on the table with two sets of car keys and-" Glen had the Rolex dangling from his finger. The weight was significant.

"Damn it." Shane snatched the watch. He was relieved.

* * *

Hi.

Hi.

"How was your day?"

"It was a day."

"So you had a day?"

"I did."

"Do you want to talk about it."

"I almost got in a car accident."

"Really?"

"It would have been my fault."

"Are you alright?"

"Still shaken up about it. Saw my life flash right before my eyes. My mind was in a thousand places."

"Was this before we talked or after we talked this morning?"

"I will plead the fifth."

"I hope you have adequate insurance."

"I may have to go with being self-insured."

"How many accidents have you had? Do you know what it takes to be self-insured?"

"Do you know who you are talking too?" Questioned the highly sought after corporate attorney on the planet.

"Do you know who you are talking too?" Questioned the highly profitable insurance CEO in corporate America.

"What were you doing before you called me?" Michonne changed the subject with ease.

"Getting comfortable." Rick mused.

"Oh Yeah?"

"Yes. I'm outside on the balcony. Want to see?"

"Please."

"This is my view when I am not on facetime with you. 20th floor."

"What a way to take in a beautiful night and a fantastic view," Michonne remarked.

"Your turn. Let me see your surroundings."

"Okay." Michonne began to move her Ipad for a panoramic view.

"It is not as awe-inspiring as what you've just shown me."

"Where are you?" Rick asked taking in the cherry wood built-in bookcase with tons of books, a nicely colored walls and a heavy wood door.

"In my office."

"Are you still at work?"

"I am at home. This is my office downstairs."

Rick had the impression that Michonne was well off, but he wasn't quite sure how well she lived in general but the bits and pieces he was able to see and discern from a glimpse here and there of her surroundings he had a clue. She was not like the others he had met since being an official divorcee.

"Why didn't you tell me you were working?"

"I'm finished for the night. I have my kids in their beds."

"You run a tight ship."

"You have too, right?"

"Wow..."

"What?"

"When you smile like that-"

"What?"

"You have a fantastic smile."

"Yours isn't too shabby. I like that face of yours. I bet your skin feels baby bottom smooth."

"We should get together sometime. I would like you to touch it and tell me if it is exactly how you imagine."

"We should get together so I can touch your face?" Michonne laughed.

"I like to think we could find other things to do before you touch my face."

"I am not touching your face, Rick."

"Not right away. I thought it would happen after we had a nice dinner."

"Are you asking me on a date?"

"Will you go out with me, Michonne?"

"Yes."

Rick couldn't help but admire Michonne's smile that grew exponentially, "To think I cause that smile."

"Well talking to you makes me smile."

"I thought it was a because we are finally going to meet."

"That too." Michonne giggled.

"We've been doing this for a while now. I want to meet you in person. Do you have a problem with us finally meeting and you getting to touch my face?"

"No. I don't have a problem with that, Rick. I want to meet you and touch your face."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Michonne struggled to keep a straight face.

"Good."

"Good." Michonne reaffirmed.

A few days later, a Wednesday, he had his chance to meet Michonne in person.

Rick realized it wasn't going to be something he considered _good_. Nothing about their date was bad if they had only actually gone on a date. Instead, he ended up having sex with her all night and into the next day, which was fantastic, but the morning after proved more problematic than anything he could ever imagine.

* * *

A/N: My vision will be posted on Tumblr. Yes, I have been missing in action. I have not stopped writing. I have so many stories. My mind is like a kaleidoscope of complete and utter nonsense. I will share a glimpse of two or three things boiling over. I will update two or three chapters of All I Need.


	3. Attacked

"You know that look that women get when they want to have sex? Me neither."  
 **― Steve Martin**

* * *

 _The truth about a Roni, she's a sweet little girl_  
 _You can treat her right, feel nice, and hold her tight_  
 _Only_ tenderonies _can give a special love_  
 _A special kind of love that makes you feel good inside_

 ** _Bobby Brown Roni_**

"Turn that shit down. Preferably off." Shane entered the passenger side while his friend Rick slid into the back seat of the waiting car driven by Tyrese who complied, only because he had questions.

"What in the hell happened?" Tyrese questioned the man that moaned from a painful injury he received from a beat down.

"The fuck if I know."

"What the hell do you mean? You fight for no reason?" Tyrese turned his body to see as much as he could of the man in the backseat.

"Pay him no attention," Shane was pissed off and dismissive, "I have asked the same thing with no clear picture on what the hell happened for us to be selected to get him out of jail with only the vague charges presented on the arrest records. Some severe brain injury must have happened when he got his ass handed to him. Only thing I can think of. "

"Concussion?" Tyrese wondered aloud.

"I was attacked. No other way to describe it or explain it." Rick touched his swollen jaw after opening and closing his mouth to gauge his pain threshold.

"Attacked how?" Tyrese began to move the car out of the parking spot.

"From the beginning please." Shane insisted.

"I went to her place."

"Who's place?"

"Her name is, Michonne. We were finally going to go out on a date and-"

"Date? Where the hell did you meet this one?"

"That swiping app."

"Fucker, I told you it is not what you would use for dating."

"I understand that now. I met her before you told me that. I had matched with two people before you told me the details. She was the second person I matched with and the first one, I have yet to meet her. I moved on to the one who is associated with this damn situation."

"After I explained to you what the app is for, have you ever had any issues at this level?"

"Can't say I have," Rick admitted. He also would have revealed the times he used the app for it's intended purpose it was just that, sex at a nearby hotel. No drama. It was two people with an understanding that consensual sex was the only thing on the table.

"I went to her place to pick her up, and we never left her home. We were all over her house. She was sex-crazed, and I was..."

Rick stood outside her home. It was exactly as he had imagined. She was very well off, and that alone was a reassuring plus. Stepping inside Michonne's home, Rick also noticed immediately it was very inviting, spacious, clean and orderly. The fragrance of fresh cut flowers on the heavily structured Credenza was an unexpected but pleasant scent reminding him of a breath of fresh air.

She looked fantastic in every way.

Her nervous energy made him lose his confidence along with his subtle entertaining flair that he was able to fake over the phone and Facetime when it came to how they interacted with one another. Just the sight of her alone, up close, was enough to convince him he had met his match, equal if not someone, out of his league.

The way she turned her body to grab her expensive black handbag off of the table, along with her keys gave him a very nice visual of her curves that were outlined in the designer dress she wore for their dinner date. He was surprised by her halting in front of him. They both stood there, in the middle of her foyer, staring at each other. Her question briefly summoned him from his lustful thoughts.

"Are you ready?" She had asked him.

"Yeah. I am ready."

Michonne paused. She was amused. "Ummm. Exactly what are you ready for?"

"For you to touch my face?" Rick responded sheepishly. He was ready to get their evening off to a good start.

"I thought I had to wait until after Dinner?"

"I'd rather you get it out of the way, now."

"Are you under the impression that it is all I have been thinking about?"

"Yeah."

Before he knew it, they were kissing, stripping and fucking on the Credenza, the back of her sofa, along the kitchen island and the floor of her bedroom.

"So, her husband came home?" Shane was completely flabbergasted.

"Ex-husband." Rickk corrected.

"What say you?" Tyrese stopped the car in the middle of the police station parking lot.

"The motherfucker didn't have the decency to knock." Rick gripped.

"I guess the ex-husband didn't think his ex-wife would move on." Shane surmised.

"Women ain't changing locks?" Tyrese couldn't bring himself to drive until someone backing out of a parking space he was blocking honked twice.

"Door was left unlock from the moment I came in."

"But what right did the husband have to beat your ass though?"

"I didn't take his shit laying down."

"What position were you in if you fucking his ex-wife that he saw, and it bothered him that much?" Shane wondered.

Rick didn't answer that question. There was no way he was going to explain nor describe it due to his need to keep a bit of decorum about the whole situation that got out of hand.

It was Abigail, Michonnes daughter, who ran outside and got her stepmother, Andrea who was sitting in the car waiting for her husband Mike to come out of his former wife's home. They had the children for two days, and it was scheduled to have them returned that afternoon. They were early.

Andrea noticed the look on Mike's face when he had pushed the door open. He stepped inside with his children calling out for Michonne. Less than five minutes later she was summoned.

"Ms. Andrea. Come! Hurry! Daddy is fighting a man!"

"What?" Andrea opened the passenger door of the car to step out. Upon hearing the sound and the actual sight of the brutal fight, she had called the police.

* * *

A/N: I want to thank DaneS for forcing me to re-read chapter two that implied that it was Jessie Rick had crazy sex with. It was actually Michonne and I made the correction or clarified with a smidgen more of detail or rewording.


	4. Mike Walks In

" **libidinous** , _adj_.

I never understood why anyone would have sex on the floor. Until I was with you and I realized: you don't ever realize you're on the floor."  
 **― David Levithan, The Lover's Dictionary**

* * *

"I am going to tell you now, and I need you to listen." Titus had Michonne's full attention.

"I am listening."

"Shit is problematic."

"Meaning?"

"How the hell, I mean why in the hell does Mike care who's dicking you down?"

"Do you have any PG or rated G for the manner of how you communicate, Titus." Michonne quickly took the phone off of speaker just in case her children were nearby to hear new expressive adult terms. She closed the door to her home office.

"Honey, I am telling you like it is. Mike is problematic. I need answers because I swear, it is weird as all get out."

Michonne sighed because Titus was right.

"I went to the jail to bail Rick out, but he was already bailed out early this morning."

"Your legal consenting pussy has cost a man a whole day in jail. Never heard of such a thing in all my heterosexual life."

"You aren't hetero, Titus."

"And you know this. Now that I proved my point either you get Mike together or I will."

"Now you are doing too much, Titus."

"Willing to read him for filth. Waiting for permission."

"Permission, not granted."

"I will wait."

"You do that."

"I guess the consolation is you got those damn cobwebs dusted. You can now move on to the next. Got yourself broken in real good." Titus mused while watching the Vietnamese woman go over his pedicure.

"I have no idea why I confide into you?"

"Because the bitch you trusted used the shit against you. Stole your man."

"Well, I seem to be doing the same thing."

"Understand the difference I don't have time for Hetero-playboy-sexuals. I am not about games. Gay men preferred and out of the closet required."

"I can't believe I've called him like eight times, and he's not answering."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I want to apologize and tell him I went to bail him out. Well, mostly to apologize. I left him a voicemail."

"Leave it at that. Give him an opportunity to process everything and if it means you move on to someone else, then so be it."

What Titus had provided was unacceptable to Michonne. She had opened herself up to a man that was more than her equal, more than a one night and a never again. If she had known this was going to be the result, she would have never slept with him in the first place. If anyone was problematic, it was Mike.

* * *

"What are you doing in my house you son of a Bitch!" Mike shouted

Mike took another swing at Rick who swiftly side-stepped the impact by ensuring that Michonne's son didn't have the large grandfather clock fall on top of him due to the sudden shoving that was escalating to a full-blown fist fight.

"This is not your house! We are divorced, remember? Damn it Mike stop it. What in the hell, Mike! Let him Go! Let him go, Damn it!" Michonne yelled frantically to no avail.

Michonne tried to find an angle to keep the men from killing each other. Mike had successfully landed a punch, and it was murder she wrote if the cops hadn't arrived. Both men were arrested.

* * *

Michonne's palm made the final contact against his skin. Her fingers were lightly grazing his earlobe and the upper portion of his neck. His skin wasn't baby bottom smooth. It was weathered, slightly rough due to new growth emerging. Whatever answer he was seeking as the space between them closed for a kiss, her response was an emphatic yes. She realized she wanted to be kissed by someone. Someone who caused her to lose her sense of propriety and shyness stood before her, setting her free for the first time, ever. Sexual liberation was more than a platitude it was an act worth repeating and repeating and...

"Damn, woman."

Michonne couldn't help but laugh while her sweaty face rested on Rick's already wet chest, both trying to catch their breath.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Rick teased.

"No. What good are you if you are dead?"

"One moment, I think have I died and went to heaven, and the next..."

"The next what?" Michonne rested her chin on his chest.

"I am like, Damn woman," Rick smirked. He quickly questioned her sudden movement, "Where are you going?"

Michonne eased out of her kings sized bed, allowing the cotton sheet to fall away from her body once she planted her feet on to the floor ensuring her ass did not rub against the mattress fitted sheet.

"I am going to get us a towel and adjust the air. It is hot."

"You are hot."

Hot had a different connotation, and Michonne gave him a quick wink. She knew his eyes were glued to her nude body that was slicked with both their sweat and love juices. She didn't have a care.

For fifteen years she thought she was in a monogamous relationship. She had only been with one man sexually, and it was with the man she eventually married and divorced. She was eager to see where this would lead with Rick who seemed more than pleased with the sex they shared.

They enjoyed leftovers in the middle of the night before going for another round and then eventually falling asleep after an epic orgasmic event.

When mid-morning arrived, Michonne was prepared to make him some breakfast after her quick shower, but she found herself bent over after a long embrace from behind.

"I was going make you some breakfast."

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to do that. How do you like your eggs?"

"Scrambled."

Michonne began to lose her composure with him pressed against her from behind telling her his preference regarding how he liked to have his eggs. He was playing with her breast. Her nipples were hard. Her breathing, ragged.

"How do you like your toast?"

"Dark."

Ass up, and knee on the mattress, she was being pumped to the stars when her ex-husband opened the door to the bedroom.


	5. Swipe One

"A man fishes for two reasons: he's either sport fishing or fishing to eat, which means he's either going to try to catch the biggest fish he can, take a picture of it, admire it with his buddies and toss it back to sea, or he's going to take that fish on home, scale it, fillet it, toss it in some cornmeal, fry it up, and put it on his plate. This, I think, is a great analogy for how men seek out women."  
 **― Steve Harvey, Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man: What Men Really Think About Love, Relationships, Intimacy, and Commitment**

* * *

Rick needed time to process where his mind was versus where his body had been, and he knew he was going to have to relay it to Michonne or change his phone number. He decided to have the conversation as he got ready for his date with a woman he couldn't wait to meet when he had swiped her first, and now with everything, including his bruised jaw, he wasn't as eager nor interested. He wanted to be sure either way.

The sight of the nicely dressed blonde woman sitting alone in the restaurant at a table for two, awaiting his arrival didn't give him the same vibe, nor energy that he instantly felt with Michonne. With Michonne he was dialed to 10, here with Jessie it was a two. He chalked it up to the past chaotic event he survived with his association with swipe two.

"Hi."

"Hi, I am Rick."

"Jessie. Nice to finally meet you, Rick. Were you in a fight?"

"A major misunderstanding."

"Are things better?" Jessie reached to cup his face, but he instinctively moved away from such an intimate contact. Jessie smiled as if it wasn't a big deal and Rick was relieved that she didn't take offense.

"My son is the same way. He hates for me to touch his face."

"Still sore."

"Well, I had a husband who didn't mind leaving me with a couple of those every other month. Marriage was all I had along with my kids. I would have loved to have met with you way sooner but with my divorce and my two sons trying to adjust to not having a dad in the home has been a very trying time for me. I have spent a lot of time trying to really determine exactly what I want in my life since I am no longer with my husband, ex-husband. We were together for more than 14 years. I would have never guessed that it wasn't going to be happily ever after. I have known him ever since..."

 **Michonne:** I am glad we talked.

 _You didn't seem too thrilled about what I had to say._

 **Michonne** : My feelings are all over the place.

 _I believe you need to sort things out with your ex. It is evident that your ex still has feelings for you._

 **Michonne:** Is that what you want?

I _t is not about me. This is about you having a conversation with your ex-husband. I can't be any clearer with you about the importance._

 **Michonne** : You had asked me if I had a conversation about dating. I never had that talk with him because I wasn't dating anyone. I wasn't interested in anyone, and then I met you.

 _I am not dating..._

"Important?" Jessie was curious about what was distracting Rick on their very first date.

"Uhhh. What?"

Rick realized he had lost his mind. He had tuned Jessie entirely out to engage in a back in forth conversation with the one he felt he would compare any other woman to now that he had a taste of what sex was like between them.

"Is this a bad time?" Jessie asked curious to the level of concentration he was using to text responses on his phone which to her was a clear indication he wasn't the kind who could multitask.

"It seems that way." Rick never let his eyes leave his phone.

 **Michonne:** Just sex? That is all that it was to you? Was that all it was?

 _Wait..._

 **Michonne:** NO. I am not waiting. I want to understand.

 _I am busy right now. I need some time. Can you give me that?_

 _ **Michonne:**_ Time is up. I am in front of your house.

 _My house? I don't...where are you?_

 **Michonne** : In front of the gate. I need a code. There's a Colt that says Grimes Weapon of Choice.

 _Turn around. Leave, Michonne._

 **Michonne** : No. I want to talk.

Rick couldn't concentrate. He had no idea how in the hell she ended up in front of the property he had given to his wife in their divorce. Technically it still belonged to him due to the fact he was on the hook for the mortgage. Lori was procrastinating finding something with a fresh start for her and their children, preferring to spend time in the home of whomever she was dating than seeking something she could officially call her own.

 _Neighborhood watch will report you to the police. LEAVE!_

 **Michonne:** Not until you tell me where you are

 _I am out with someone._

 **Michonne:** Who?

 _The person I swiped first_

 **Michonne:** I Hate you.

"Shit!" Rick exclaimed in the crowded restaurant. He was done in so many ways that he was annoyed with the person across from him at the table asking if there was going to be a raincheck. NO. But he had never really told her no.

15 minutes later he pulled up behind Michonnes's white Mercedes to find she had knocked down the gate to his home. She was still inside of her car completely distraught. Her forehead was resting on the steering wheel. He pulled the handle to her door that was unlocked.

"Have you been drinking?"

"No. I fucking ran out of Gas." Michonne sobbed.

"You fucking knocked over my ex-wife's Gate!"

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my intentions."

"What were your intentions exactly."

"I was trying to leave."

"You would need to have the car in reverse."

"I know that. I am so emotional."

"Why is that?"

"Because I'm stupid to be in love with you. To think you are the one. When you are not."

"I hate to see what would happen if I were really the one, what kind of crazy shit you would pull. You have called me thirty times and left me ten voicemails. I would like to caution any man that you would deem the one."

"I need a phone charger. My phone is dead. I need to call the Emergency Road Service for some gas and to file a claim to get your gate fixed-"

"Your front end, Michonne."

"I know. That too."

"Step out."

"Why?"

"Because we are going to worry about it in the morning."

Rick was nose deep between Michonne's legs when his ex-wife entered the guest bedroom with their son trailing behind as a witness to the highly visible act performed in broad daylight, curtains wide.


	6. Cover Your Eyes Carl

_"I know I want you," he heard himself say, all his vows and his honor all forgotten. She stood before him naked as her name day, and he was as hard as the rock around them. He had been in her half a hundred times by now, but always beneath furs, with others all around them. He had never_ seeen _how beautiful she was. Her legs were skinny and well muscled, the hair at the juncture of her thighs a brighter red than that on her head. Does that make it even luckier? He pulled her close._

 _"I love the smell of you," he said. "I love your red hair. I love your mouth and the way you kiss me. I love your smile. I love your teats." He kissed them, one and then the other. "I love your skinny legs, and what's between them." He knelt to kiss her there, lightly on her mound at first, but Ygritte moved her legs apart a little, and he saw the pink inside and kissed that as well, and tasted her._

 _She gave a little gasp. "If you love me all so much, why are you still dressed?" she whispered. "You know nothing, Jon Snow. Noth-oh. Oh. OHHH."_

 _Afterward, she was almost shy, or as shy as Ygritte ever got. "The thing you did," she said when they lay together on their piled clothes. "With your...mouth." She hesitated. "Is that...is it what_ lordss _do to their ladies, down in the south?"_

 _"I don't think so." No one had ever told Jon just what lords did with their ladies. "I only...wanted to kiss you there, that's all. You seemed to like it."_

 _"Aye. I...I liked it some. No one taught you such?"_

 _"There's been no one," he confessed. "Only you."_

 **― George R.R. Martin, A Storm of Swords**

* * *

Michonne was trembling. Her body was bracing for the great soaring above the clouds the more Rick continued to lap with his tongue in a motion that was never before used on her by her ex-husband. Rick applied the right amount of pressure and the slow back and forth caused her hips to come to life once she relaxed her legs and allowed whatever to happen to happen. She was going to scream to every god created, and when finally did, his moans proved that the vibrations were enough to cause her Orgasm to increase in its intensity and last longer than she ever imagined possible.

"Please...Oh my...Yes. Yes! Yes! Ohh, yeS...Ehh," Michonne whimpered. Her body felt like it was practically levitating off of the mattress. "Please...keep...oooohSoo good...Yes! Yes! OHH...No! No! No! Please, NOOO. I am going to die right this very moment!"

Rick knew he was doing a damn good job and the slap to his head from Michonne who was moving her sweet tasting pussy from being licked, caused him to get the gist quickly, she was no longer enjoying what he thought he was doing well. The sound of his ex-wife's voice gave him an added clue. Lori's admonishment of their son, Carl as an underage witness to two consenting adults, one being his father pleasuring a woman, caused Rick to sit up to verify with his own two eyes. He couldn't discount that Lori-just standing there-wasn't disturbing in and of itself.

"Hi, Dad! What are you doing, Dad?" Carl smirked trying to dodge his Mother's elbows and shoves.

"GET OUT OF HERE MISTER!" Lori landed a hard enough slap to Carl's ear to get him to follow her commands. She wasn't dishing out love taps.

"Ow!" Carl cried out in shocked pain.

"Leave and make sure your sister does not come this way. Do you hear me?" Lori demanded.

Carl didn't provide a verbal response that he understood or would comply. He held on to the side of his face that she had smacked giving his mother a bold glare before walking in the direction that led him away from the bedroom entry.

"In our home, Rick!" Lori exclaimed once she was sure that Carl was going to do as he was told. She was a red-hot level of angry.

Rick was dazed and confused. His dick became instantly soft since he was never going to maintain any degree of focus with Lori around. Rick focused on the woman he was no longer married to even though his mental sidebar kept abreast of the frantic mumbles from Michonne who shot up, and out of bed to find her clothes.

"You bring a Tramp into our home? Is this what you think is a good example for our son? Whoring around why don't you. Hound Dog that brings anyone in our home while a Mercedez has crashed the gate? Did you know that? Did you know what was happening or have you been fucking her all night while someone damages our property at will?"

"Are you going to say anything?" Michonne paused from sliding on her loose fitting slacks.

"I am not sure which part to tackle. It all looks bad." Rick responded to Michonne.

"How about I am not a Tramp. Good enough place as any." Michonne zipped and then buttoned her pants.

"That part I wasn't going to dignify with a response. My ex-wife over there knows damn well that anything I am doing with any woman, especially This woman, YOU, up inside of this home, must be someone I am trying to get serious about."

"What do you mean trying?" Michonne latched on to the only word she found more problematic than being caught by Rick's 12-year-old son having sex.

"I am going to put forth a great deal of effort, in hopes you trust me more and call me less."

"I was calling because I had questions."

"And we went over every single one of them last night."

"Really?" Lori couldn't believe how she was placed on ignore.

"Thank you." Michonne appreciated the reminder. Rick had promised he would be patient with her.

"One day at a time." Rick reminded.

"Okay." Michonne agreed.

"Lori, this is Michonne. Michonne, my ex-wife, Lori."

Rick stood up from the bed, completely nude, reaching for his underwear.

Michonne couldn't bring herself to say hello, or a nice to meet you. She was utterly mute as was Lori.

Michonne pulled her top down over her head. She completely forgot to put on her bra that was behind Rick's pillow until he dangled it from his fingers. She snatched it and folded it to fit almost in the palm of her hand. If she had pockets, she would have stuffed it out of sight.

From her attire, Lori was able to ascertain that she wasn't any tramp, whore, or prostitute. The turned over RED Bottoms on the floor at the foot of the bed next to her ex-husband's loafers indicated she was far from that description. She was disappointed that her narrative was incorrect, Lori readily adjusted herself to be reasonable.

"I am not going to explain to our son what he just saw. I am leaving that up to you, Rick." Lori left from the doorway to halt their daughter Judith from making an appearance.

It was only then that Rick swallowed. It was like a douse of cold water thrown in his face. His son was his primary concern. He was trying to keep pace with Michonne who was ready to bolt. Soon as her shoes were on she was making a break to only come face to face with the little blonde girl who was about the age of six while Lori was trying to instruct Carl on manners.

"My name is Judith. What is your name?"

"Her name is Michonne," Rick answered.

"Yay, Daddy!" The little girl's attention went straight to her father who reached to pick her up in the air to soar above as was routine. It was when Lori screamed that the midflight of the little girl and the father who was holding her up in the air froze in place

"Put Judy down, Rick! Don't you dare kiss her with those lips of yours, and I will kill you if you allow her to kiss your face."

Michonne rushed out of the home while the two people inside with their children tried to make sense of everything that she was party to by her abrupt introduction as THIS is Michonne. This? Sex education and why can't his daughter kiss her Daddy would have to be tackled in a very delicate way, and no one had asked Michonne for any examples in how to even begin.

Rushing outside where the sun was the most bright, Michonne was able to see the damage to the front end of her Mercedes much more clearly. Michonne also realized that she wasn't going anywhere unless she was walking. She had failed to charge her phone. Her tank was Empty. She needed gasoline, and even if she walked to a nearby gas station, she didn't have a dime to her name, nor a credit card. She was so frustrated that she threw the item balled up in her hands. It soared through the air with the help of a nice steady breeze. As if in slow motion, Michonne realized that her black bra was going to land on the sparking gate that was partially underneath her car.

"Oh. My. God!"

* * *

A/N: Two Chapters for All I Need coming in the wee hours. I need to update Casket. I need to look for it...hmmm


	7. She Really Wants Me!

_"This thing about you that you think is your flaw - it's the reason I'm falling in love with you."_  
― **Colleen hoover, Slammed**

* * *

Rick had found refuge momentarily out on the balcony. He was hoping to mull over his options by weighing one against the other. He wasn't successful with this endeavor especially with his cellphone buzzing at random.

Out of nowhere, he began to receive texts from his EX-girlfriend he hadn't communicated with in over six months.  
Rick was surprised by this new development in his love life.

His ex-was texting him in a manner he had to make sure he didn't have something installed texting her back. He found it puzzling. Sasha?

 **Sasha** : Hey baby I am in town. Had a long flight. I am in your neck of the woods.

 **Sasha** : How are you?

 **Sasha** : I'm doing what I can when I can. Had a hectic schedule. I have time now. Are you available?

 **Sasha** : My next flight is in 4 days. I was thinking we sleep in, room service and romance the night at Digbees Lounge. I am open to whatever you want to do. Call me. Text me. I am waiting.

Snubbing out his cigarette he lit up another. He wasn't going to call her. He wasn't going to text her. He was going to let her wait. His lack of response should speak volumes. He took another swig from his stiff cocktail hoping an epiphany was on its way. There wasn't anything ringing profound or brand new.

His heavy thoughts kept him hunched over, elbow resting on his mid-thighs as he contemplated if these were signs his mother Ella warned him about when it came to God and his divine warnings of when to take heed now that an actual fire came associated with Michonne.

Michonne had the makings of Biblical proportions. There was no denying the crazy good sex, the fight, a day in jail, a mind-boggling amount of phoning and texting from her end, surprising surveillance footage from his home handed over to the fire department that showed she had been stalking him before he had asked her on their first date.

During his hour of retrospect, Rick realized the only time he was close to discovering what it was that kept him drawn to Michonne over anyone else he had ever met happened only twice. It was the feeling that came over him when he had her in the doggy style position at her home, and when at his ex-wife's temporary residence he felt it more keenly once he had Michonne butt naked and in the hot seat while he sat straddling the kitchen stool.

Rick was completely biased. For him, Michonne bent over, ass up was everything. Everything. Rick had always wanted good sweaty sex with someone of like mind, but he also wanted sex attached to an ongoing monogamous relationship. Rick knew if he ever found a certain type of woman with all the qualities he was seeking, he was going to fall head over hills in love.

All it would take was a few dates, sex a total of three or four times in a span of a few weeks was reasonable enough to discern compatibility. What Rick couldn't believe was that he had somehow surpassed that three or four number with Michonne. Six times at her home when her ex-husband Mike walked in ready to battle. He had never had the energy to have so much sex with any person ever in his whole life. He was definitely not complaining when they were ready for round four when Lori interrupted.

"Had to come out and see for my self what Shane and Tyrese have been trying to describe."

Glen closed the balcony sliding glass door that was off of the living room of the 20th-floor penthouse. He had a Manila folder under his arm and a beer in his free hand.

"Nothing to see."

From the brightness of the moon and stars, Glen could see that Rick had got his ass handed to him.

"Were your hands tied behind your back?"

"As much as I wanted to, there was no way I was going to fight him back with his kids watching."

"Kids?"

"She has two. Daughter, Abigail. Son, Andre."

"This is serious?"

The question posed to him he left without an answer. It was obvious. Ting. Ting. Ting. Ting.

"Is that her, texting?" Glen asked walking pass a vacant chair, preferring to stand with his back against the balcony rails. He wasn't concerned with the view beyond. He had a great deal of insight he wanted to share if Rick was receptive.

"Sasha."

"The one you left your wife for?" Glen questioned. He was subtly surprised to hear they were still communicating with each other.

"I did not leave Lori for Sasha." Rick response was terse.

"Really?" Glen couldn't hide his disbelief.

"Lori and I grew apart. There was no other party involved."

"Interesting." Glen mocked.

"Sasha and I were just friends." Rick found himself on the defensive.

"A friend you heavily flirted with."

"Harmless." Rick didn't deviate from his narrative on how he saw things.

"After all of this time is that how you honestly see it?"

"I maintain there was no other party involved. Lori and I both agreed that our marriage wasn't working. It was actually Lori who had suggested it first."

"And the first person you fuck around with during your separation just so happened to be, Sasha?"

"Listen-."

"No, you listen to me Jackass. You and Lori would still be together if you weren't so invested in maintaining that friendship. I mean, Maggie and I looked up to you two. You were the perfect couple. Then word got around it was just a Facade. I am in no way excusing Lori trying to hook up with Shane. Your priorities should have been to work on your marriage."

Rick swallowed. It was true. Every word. There was no way he could deny the pull he felt during that time. He shared things with Sasha, the private stuff between him and his wife. It was inevitable he was going to fall for her. He loved his wife Lori, but he thought he was in love with the honey brown skin woman with the wild hair that worked in his legal department on the west coast.

"I'm not out here to beat you up about it. I know for a fact with those two nimrods you have inside who are watching the game, any advice would either have to come from me or a shrink."

"What you got?" Rick reached out to have the things in the folder placed into his hands.

"She is an attorney. High level and not very affordable. She dabbles in Corporate law, but her expertise is helping the accused and the guilty. Michonne Suzanne Benton. She was Benton and Anderson before it became Mr. Benton who was screwing around with Anderson. Now the firm is M. Benton, Anderson, and associates. She is currently MSB and associate. A Titus Amedroden is the only one that followed her when she severed her ties with the legal firm that only received its clout because of her. She is a heavyweight in the legal arena. Your wife has brought a civil case against her."

"Lori did what?"

"Call your ex and have her dead it. Women can just become overzealous and vindictive. You would have to be crazy if you think it won't boil over into other areas."

"How would I have ever known any of this?" Rick's question was rhetorical. He was as straight lace as they came in corporate America. Michonne Suzanne Benton, Attorney.

"I don't understand both your introductions when you two first met."

"We met on Tinder."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"The age goes up that high?"

"I am not that old."

"I'm not either, and I'm definitely not going on Tinder."

"Swipe left for No, Right for yes."

"It was explained to you that Tinder is for Hookups, right?"

"Yes. I have no desire for hookups. I've since deleted my profile."

"So, Ms. Benton turned out to be more than a hookup?"

"She wasn't ever a hookup."

Glen knew he had to be careful just by his friend's tone, "I'm not saying she was a hookup. I am saying the app is really to hook up. I am surprised you would even put yourself out there like that."

"I had my beard in my profile photo. Michonne and I both agreed to not get too personal. I introduced myself as Rick, and she introduced herself as Michonne."

"So you two never..."

"We talked mainly. We were texting a bit."

"You hate texting."

"Reason for moving things to the phone or Facetime."

"Ahh." Glen was slowly getting a clearer picture. He was still confused.

"Of course I didn't know what Tinder was used for. Shane set it all up. I swiped someone else first. I was eager to meet this nice looking woman named Jessie. While I was waiting for a response from her, I kept swiping left and then I came upon Michonne. I had swiped right, and my mind was blown that we matched. She was my second swipe. I got a quick response from Michonne, and things just went from there. I liked her voice. I liked talking to her about her day. She has kids. I have kids. She didn't mind me talking about Carl and Judith, and I enjoyed hearing about Abigail and her son Andre. We hit it off. We facetime practically every night. We talked about everything, and sometimes I would wake up in the morning with her still.." Rick realized then he was sharing too much. He didn't want to shine the spotlight on what he deemed personal, so he steered from revealing, "I didn't realize I wasn't interested in swipe one until she took me up on meeting her at a restaurant. She talked and talked."

"If you weren't interested then why would you even agree?"

"My mind was all over the place. I was having a hard time trying to think about everything that had happened and was happening. I kind of wanted to ghost Michonne but the more I tried, the more dead I felt. Two days of feeling more miserable than satisfied. I think I want her more than anything. I just need to know just how crazy she can get."

"I am confused. Why wouldn't you consider yourself crazy?" Glen's head was spinning.

"I've fallen for Michonne, and it scares the shit out of me."

"Why?"

"I don't know if it is because of how things just fizzled with Sasha or..."

"I do not see anything that correlates other than possible race. Sasha and Michonne are two African American women. Both employed. Educated. What happened with Sasha was something that had to happen, if I am to understand you."

"Sasha wanted to continue to see other people. I wasn't for it."

"Michonne?"

"She wants me. Like, she REALLY wants me."


	8. Good Morning!

"To fall in love with someone's thoughts - the most intimate, splendid romance."  
 **― Sanober Khan**

* * *

"Good Morning."

Rick's laptop was propped on his nightstand facing him. One side of his face was still buried in his pillow when he finally opened his one eye that locked with Michonnes slowly opening one. He smiled upon hearing her voice responding back to him. The two technically had been sleeping together for a couple of weeks before things went real time, real life. Virtual was pretty nice.

"Good Morning."

"I have to say, I can get used to this," Rick admitted before his brain was fully aware.

"Use to what exactly?" Michonne moved the sheet that partially hid her face.

"Waking up seeing your face. That smile." He hoped his suggestion would prompt her to smile even brighter, but she shyly hid it from his view by fisting her sheet to cover her upper lip. Only the one corner of her mouth was slightly visible, and the merriment that danced in her eyes gave it away and allowed him to imagine.

Rick's voice was still slightly groggy as was Michonne's. He would have never had guessed this level of Facetime in a million years.

Once their responsibilities were put to bed in the evenings the two had discovered while alone and undisturbed in their own dimly lit bedrooms their shared eagerness to connect with one another. They found it very hard to disconnect once they became engaged in a topic. Pure and unencumbered with any false pretenses. They spoke freely and encouraged a deeper look into the failure of their marriages and the roles in which they contributed. They talked about everything except what they did for a living. They talked until they realized upon waking they had fallen asleep.

It felt good to not be Richard Sinclaire Grimes richest CEO in the insurance industry.

For Michonne he was just Rick. And she was only Michonne.

Michonne had no idea what Rick did for a living and for her that was an indication that his image must have been squeaky clean. They didn't mingle in the same circles. She wondered if they had would she have ever taken notice. Would he have?

"I can't believe we keep doing this," Michonne spoke with a mouth full of toothpaste. "I can't keep sleeping with you. I am running late." Michonne checked her watch again.

"You like sleeping with me."

"How do you figure?" Michonne challenged his notion.

"Because I like sleeping with you. I look forward to sleeping with you."

Michonne couldn't bring herself to look at Rick when he had said what he had said. She was surprised that she didn't feel like he was being too forward. The mere thought of being intimate with someone new, different had her heart skip a beat from the slight fear and excitement that was building and escalating.

"I did tell you that you were going to fall asleep." His mention of her eyes slowly closing shut was when his eyes would suddenly open. Rick was failing at trying to remain awake.

"I really wanted to hear more about your Dad's farming days."

"I think you just wanted to hear me go on and on."

"I like your voice."

"I thought it was my eyes." Rick gave her a long gaze.

For a moment Michonne had lost her train of thought, "I can't believe we keep doing _this_."

Rick spat in his sink before he went back to brushing vigorously. He had his laptop placed on the shelf where Michonne could see him partially in the mirror, and the visual of her was the same for him.

" _This_ is great. Never overrated." Rick winked.

" _This_ is never overrated." Michonne winked back.

" _This_." Rick held his toothbrush close to the screen.

" _This_." Michonne did the same as if they were going to clink their wine glasses together.

"I am glad I found someone, I could do this with," Rick said before his brain was aware.

"Me too." Michonne was fascinated with how agreeable she was when it came to him.

After rinsing their mouths they both knew this was going to be the end of their conversation because showering was not something discussed or would ever be viewed on video and it made for a slightly awkward disconnect when wanting to stay as connected as possible.

"Ready to start your day?" Michonne had asked. She had to think of something. Rick was doing the eye thing and it caused her to feel slightly flustered if not hot. Too hot. She really needed a cold shower.

"No."

"Why not?" Michonne was surprised by his response.

"Like I told you last night. My kids are here. I have to entertain them since Lori told them I am supposed to be the fun parent."

"Aren't you fun?" Michonne giggled.

"No. According to Carl, he says I am boring. According to Judy, Carl is right."

"Remember I told you to have your kids create a list of what is considered fun. You did have them create a list didn't you?"

"Yes. I want to thank you for that. With them in mind, I will take them to a country fair where they get to watch their Dad wrestle a pig."

Rick sighed with much displeasure.

"Please! I want pictures."

Michonne covered her a mouth in hopes to stifle her laughter.

Michonne felt the vibration from her phone. Upon looking at her screen, she had a photo of Rick covered from head to toe in mud.  
Days later she couldn't hold back her giggles sitting in the airport waiting for her connecting flight. What she could see peering from the brown muck were the bluest eyes and a not so happy demeanor.

* * *

Lately, Titus found himself in a good mood. He and Michonne had finally found office space located in a practically abandoned highrise. Retainer fees were showing up more and more in the paid status column he created on excel. The new hefty retainer fees kept him alert and near giddy. The money was desperately needed to hire another paralegal and a receptionist. Decisions she left for him to make weren't entertaining, but he wasn't one to complain because he was the overworked, accountant, paralegal, receptionist and confidante. Flipper that joined them in this endeavor remained a fish in a large aquarium where all he did was swam all day.

Titus was typing more than 100 words per minute on his laptop. Whatever it was that his boss was staring at on her phone for more than five minutes distracted him to the point his typing decreased from 80, 60, 40, 20 to paralysis of fingers. He wanted to see what amused his employer. He wanted to be entertained too. He wanted to be amused. He got up and walked over to where she sat.

"I want to see what he looks like." Titus leaned more to catch a glimpse.

"What are you doing spying over my shoulder, Titus. Don't you have work to do?" Michonne hid her screen.

"Don't you?"

"I need you to pass the bar." Michonne glanced up at him standing so close to the back of her chair.

"Then that means I would've gone to law school and successfully passed. I did not."

"Well, since we have established who isn't an attorney, I think my point has been made loud and clear."

Titus needed Michonne to focus, but he also appreciated the look of happy versus her constant resting Bitch Face.

"Tell me everything!" Titus grabbed his chair with wheels and speedily moved it next to her.

"Okay."

"Don't spare the details." Titus pursed his lips to prevent a squeal of delight.

"I won't."

"Waiting."

"He's nice."

"Juicy part first."

"There isn't anything really juicy other than we have been sleeping together for the last two weeks."

"Get out of TOWN!" Titus did a slight bouncing up and down in his chair, clapping his hands.

"I think I am comfortable with him. I told him I only drool if I am sick or dog tired. He said it wasn't a problem for him because he snores only when he is sick or dog tired."

The energy drained from Titus like a kid opening a Christmas present and the more revealed of the gift the more it became evident what she said wasn't what he thought he was going to get. This was what made Michonne, Michonne. He decided to go with the flow.

"Have either of you been sick or dog tired?"

"No."

"Okay. Let's get to the juicy part! Vaginoplasty. Is my girl new Vajayjay in good working order?"

"I still haven't forgiven you for telling my ex-husband."

"Someone had to break the news to him that what he thought was trained only by him has since been re-designed for someone new."

"I didn't give you permission, Titus."

"You should have seen his face though."

This was something Michonne wished she was privy too. Her exhusband's face when he got the news that she was recovering from surgery meant to wipe away any existence to years of sexual imprinting. If it weren't for their children...

"Anyway Titus, I said we were sleeping together. I made no mention of sex."

"Sleeping together. What else could we be discussing? We are talking about two consenting adults and not an actual slumber party." From Michonne's face he had to clarify, "Slumber party?"

"We haven't met in person yet."

"How are you under the impression that you are sleeping together?"

"Because every night practically we fall asleep while on Facetime. One of us eventually wakes up and-"

"That's sleeping together?"

"I know, like really know that I would like to wake up to him every morning. It's like I feel it in my spirit."

Titus sat quietly with his mouth agape. He had never seen or heard his boss use such elementary language or for her brain to go from formidable to mush.

"I think you should have gone on a date by now. What is the holdup?"

"I would like to but he hasn't asked me."

"Ask him."

"I couldn't do that. I have never done that. Don't plan to start."

"Why not?"

"I'm not going to ask him out. I am completely satisfied with just friendship. He seems to be very nice. Extremely attractive. Well versed on corporate language. From the looks of his surroundings, I am positive he is well off. I have no idea if I want to know more to find out he isn't what I imagined or not. I know I need to know before pursuing more."

"Uhmm."

"Uhmm?"

"He could be playing games. Something most men, young, old or gay can't seem to grow out of."

"I don't think so, Titus."

"Well, what has he said about his first swipe?"

"The last time and only time he had mentioned her was when he said she hadn't given him any steady attention to know whether she was worth pursuing. We had then talked about how flaky people are when it comes to just communicating simple interest."

"How many did you swipe right, Michonne?"

"Just him."

"So what angle were you coming from when discussing flaky people if you don't entertain the idea of dating?"

"I am entertaining it, Titus. I don't have to date five people to know who I want to gamble on."

"The thing I want to point out is, you have only dated one person your whole entire life and that was Mike. He was your first crush, boyfriend, and husband. You really need to get out there and see what works for you and how different it is compared to what that ex-was serving."

"Okay. Here is his photo." Michonne slid her laptop towards Titus.

Titus gave the photo a once over. After a few purposeful keystrokes, he turned Michonne's computer back to face her.

Right before Michonne's very eyes, display after display, Titus had stealthily done a background check from a reverse photo technique. Rick was now, Richard Sinclaire Grimes, CEO of GO Stop Insurance.

* * *

A/N:

I realized upon writing this that it will have the same energy as Highly Inappropriate or Falling in Love. If anyone enjoyed those two stories then this will be up your alley of Tomfoolery.

I will catch errors as I post.


	9. Disguise

"Lies don't fit snugly into disguises. Eventually the cloak falls off and you're left staring at the naked truth which is always an uncomfortable situation."  
 **― Richelle E. Goodrich, Making Wishes**

* * *

Titus noticed the incoming call showing on his caller display. He ignored it as was customary. He had a policy never to answer a number that came in private. And besides, he was watching his favorite tear producing movie 'Imitation of Life.' He could no longer contain his sniffles once the daughter cried out for her dead mother during the large funeral procession. It got him-Every. Single. Time.

Ding Ding Ding...

"Who in the hell!" Titus cursed.

Titus takes his remote and turns off the television. He wipes his eyes before swinging open his front door with one hand, and the other kept his Japanese embroidered robe closed for modesty purposes.

"Why the hell are you ringing my doorbell like an excited crackhead being chased by the sober up right now Monster?"

Michonne shoved a fist full of severed dreads at him, "Fix it."

"Who lied to you and told you I can create wigs?"

Michonne took one step forward and planted her forehead directly on to his broad chest. She was having a nervous breakdown.

Titus' chin rested upon her three remaining dreads. He knew he was in for a long night of girl talk.

"Tell me everything. EVERY Word." Titus sat next to Michonne on the sofa.

"If you keep filling up my glass, Titus, I will not remember where I am."

"Then let me slow down being a good hostess doing the mostess." Titus held the wine bottle close to his chest. "Now tell me, everything..."

"It was foolish of me to think we would get back together."

"You would have taken him back?" Titus was shocked.

"After sufficient enough begging and pleading I would have," Michonne admitted.

"He was sleeping with Andrea behind your back. Have you forgotten?"

"There isn't enough begging in the world for her and me to be friends ever again."

"That should also apply to Mike."

"Titus, you promised."

"There wasn't a question mark in our hidden communication? You weren't asking for advice?"

Titus searched the atmosphere around him to figure out how did he get it all wrong with girl talk.

"I was under the impression he wanted to tell me how he messed up but it wasn't like that in the least. He had fallen in love with a woman that understood him and instinctively knew his every need."

"Well she should, you gave her the playbook to how to steal your man."

"I trusted her."

"Now you trust me. You will no longer pine away over that mess over there. You will concentrate on and focus solely on the mess right here." Titus pointed figuratively over to the _there_ and then the _here_ was literally a jab of his index finger into her shoulder.

"I only trust you."

"One day you are going to trust yourself. Now come on and let me chop the last three of those dangling locks. I can give you a good edge up."

"I need to start dating other people."

"Dating? You need someone to break that new jay-jay in if you're asking me. Dating tends to be overrated these days. You are going to have to understand these are trying times. You try it out, and you don't have to buy it, necessarily pay for it, or admit to it."

"Trying times?"

"Everyone subscribes to it. Except for you, and maybe the Pope and you. Here. Hand me your phone."

Michonne gave Titus her phone. Titus quickly, not counting the number of times he needed her thumbprint, accomplished two things: her name will no longer show up as private and downloading the Tinder app.

Titus had his clippers ready while Michonne finished her profile and bio.

Michonne was very curious about who was out there looking for a match. What did they look like? Would she recognize any of them? Would they know who she was and if it really mattered?

"What did you say about yourself?"

"None of your business."

"Just tell me you didn't put single black female, at least?"

"I did not."

Titus turned on his clippers and began creating a seamless work of art. Fifteen minutes later he couldn't hide his admiration. He was unaware she was talking to him until she flashed him her screen. Titus silenced his clippers.

"Dogs! Every single one of them!" Michonne declared.

"Dear God what did you put in your bio? Please tell me you didn't mention your new kitty. If you mentioned your Kat, Dogs, you would get. You know that song, Dogs chase the cat'? Dog Catcher, dog catcher. Must be the dog in me..."

"Give me some credit, Titus! My vaginoplasty isn't something I want as an advertisement. My worth is more than that, and I have more going for me. What I am talking about there are so many men with dogs in their photos. Pitbulls and other big dogs I don't recognize, but I can smell them through their photos."

"Because you don't like dogs. Keep swiping. There is bound to be a Gay man with a Yorkie or a man with a cat."

"Titus!"

"Hand me your phone."

"No, why? I am not done."

"We are going to switch out your photo. Men are prone to _think_ and _expect_ for you to look exactly like your photo. We tend to be very visual creatures. And currently, you are a softer version of Grace Jones and anyone that is interested in you will want and expect you to look like you upon meeting."

* * *

"Okay, Okay, Okay. I. AM. Ready as I'm ever going to be."

Titus entered his very own living room where Michonne was seated skimming through his O magazines subscriptions he lifted from doctor offices at random.

"Why, Titus?" Michonne tossed the magazine back on the glass coffee table

"Why what?" Titus quickly glanced at himself in the mirror hanging on the adjacent wall, giving himself a wink. The disapproving tone from Michonne was not a deterrent.

"You don't think your Donald Trump wig is doing too much?"

"I was going for Heterosexual. I have no idea how you got Donald from this blonde wig and very masculine suit."

"Just the wig, Titus."

"Well, I will remove the wig when you take that tired Zombie Apocolypse one off. Do we have a deal?"

"I used to have dreads exactly like this." Michonne insisted on keeping her undercover style for the planned surveillance.

"Only the homeless and the obvious white woman who is ordering the wig for that character on the walking dead. From what I know personally, you have money to do better."

"Rick knows me without hair. I have Facetimed him several times now. These dreads will throw him off in case he looks our way."

"We are going to a country club he frequents are we not? If anyone is going to have the spotlight on them stepping into a sea of white, affluent men will be you and my very gay ass."

"There has been a change of plans. He says he is going to meet up with his friends at Alexandria Bar and Grill."

Titus pondered this bit of news and how this changed things so rapidly.

Stepping out of Michonne's white Mercedes after having his wig snatched off caused Titus to have an air of being offended. He walked ahead of Michonne. For the rest of the night, Titus continued to add more bass to his voice. He didn't care if it screamed fraud to his ears. It was his demeanor that kept eyes off of the Carmen Santiago wearing the broad-brimmed hat and sunglasses as they spied on the unsuspecting Nice guy having a good time.

What they were hoping to see or witness was how Mr. Grimes interacted with others and especially those of the opposite sex.

"Why do I feel like a stalker?"

"Because you are," Titus informed Michonne.

"What about you?"

"I am just a witness to your stalker-like tendencies. You and I are not the same, Honey."

"What are you talking about, Titus? You are the one that did the photo reverse thing. You are the one that-."

"There's this thing of getting to know someone, and then there is the other way where you have to wade through a lot of bullshit, years wasted, when simple keystrokes will save you time and energy. Instant knowledge is preferable compared to minutes of sheer ignorance. 1. 2. 3. Boom. Before your eyes, you have an idea about employment, arrest records, bankruptcy, and any outstanding child support issues. Clear enough indicators to know whether or not to proceed or keep it moving don't you think?"

"Thank you for that, Titus."

"I would normally say you should have been swiping more, but if your kitty cat has discerning capabilities, I say go on with your bad self. He looks much better in person. He's not flirting with anyone from what I can see from here. So far heterosexual behavior." Titus kept his eyes on the man in question while Michonne worried about being recognized.

"What is he doing?" Michonne was highly curious.

"Having a good time."

"Describe."

"Turn around and see for yourself," Titus suggested.

"I can't."

"Why not? Your disguise makes you ten percent unrecognizable, and for white people, you just might get asked for your autograph looking like Danai Guerrera."

"Who is that?"

"Actress from the Walking Dead."

"What is your fascination with that show?"

"I can count on one finger how many black people are still around on that dreadful series. I read an article the other day about how the Gays and Blacks would be the first to die. The Millenials will all commit suicide without their cell phones. Without wifi, they would go stark raving mad. It will only be the psychotics, white militia, fringe groups. Crazy gun toting fanatic will be left fighting to survive the end of days. I hope to be the dead. Forced dieting is just not my thing."

"I can't process anything you are telling me, Titus."

"That is because you don't watch the show, Michonne."

"No, I don't. I, fortunately, have more things going on in my life, real life where I haven't any time to contemplate dead people walking the earth. Real life seems to have a priority over television right now. Right now I would like to have someone in my life I can count on and who is in it for the long haul. I want to do this right or not at all."

"I should have put your ass on Bumble. You weren't using that damn Tinder the way it was supposed to be used."

"I don't want to hook up. I am not looking to hook up. I have two kids and a career."

"Ok?"

"And at my age Hooking up is not in my vocabulary, until well maybe now. Using it verbally. In a sentence." Michonne clarified.

"At least you have an excuse. You haven't been out there sliding down poles and hooking up for one night stands in the beginning middle or during the ending. Let me be the first to tell you that a one night stand is just a one night stand. One night, Michonne. Tinder wasn't designed for relationship finding, building, nor maintaining.. With today's technology, this would have been a perfect way for Stella to have gotten her groove back without bringing that Negro to the United States."

* * *

Civil Suit. Titus noticed the date and time of said incident along with a stark narrative to what happened on the night of hunting for dick. He was now up to speed on everything that happened that night.

Michonne couldn't ignore Titus's overly dramatic entrance into her open door office. The slapping sound of an unsealed envelope made it near impossible.

"So it's like that?"

"Like what?"

"I had specifically asked. Like I always do — every single time. You know I enjoy girl talk. I especially enjoy hearing sordid details. I need to know things in order to not be caught off guard. I mean I love drama. DRAMA. I am a drama queen, but honey you are drama-drenched."

Michonne couldn't fathom where their conversation was headed.

"What do you give me, Honey?"

"What do I give you?" Michonne asked carefully. She enunciated hoping to understand by keeping in grammatical context.

"What do you give me?"

"What?"

"The edited version," Titus revealed solemnly.

"What are we talking about here, Titus? I am depressed right now. I was sitting quietly in my office trying to get a grip on my great depression."

Titus gave a sudden horrified expression.

Michonne admitted, "I snuck it in when you weren't looking."

"I have a sign at my desk that says to leave it in the car."

"I know."

"My sign also says to leave all weapons, narcotics including depression in the car. We are not NRA friendly, we aren't pharmacist legally nor illegally, and last I checked if anyone comes here seeking our help they better be polite. Nothing worse than helping someone who is rude. Everyone's problem tend - Wait a minute, Missy!" Titus abruptly stopped his tangent.

Titus was determined to remain focused on the information in the envelope. He was hot. He fanned himself.

"What happened at that white man's house, Michonne?"

"I told you what happened. And please stop calling him a white man. His name is Rick."

"He called me a tall black gay man."

"Because you called him a white man."

"If he would have added handsome I could have overlooked everything."

It was just a few days ago that Rick had left her office. He wasn't seeking any legal advice. He wanted to know why she wasn't answering his calls.

"Waiting for a formal introduction."

"That went out the door, Titus."

"And so has your good sense."

"Excuse me?" Michonne was taken aback.

Titus decided to cut to the chase by throwing the envelope onto her desk in front of her.

"I had asked you if you were stalking him for dick. Not once did you tell me you tried to torch the place for dick."


	10. How Crazy Are You?

_"And that's the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too."_

 **― Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner**

* * *

Rick wasn't one for the constant typing, and if Michonne were agreeable to giving him her number in the very beginning, he would much prefer to chat over the phone. Rick was excited they had finally agreed to an exact time for Facetime.

One thing he noticed was her skin tone. It was much darker than he expected. It wasn't off-putting but it was something he noted to himself. Rick found himself nervous and attracted to the woman he met off of Tindr. Once she locked eyes with him he felt he had met his perfect match. His heart sped up a bit.

"Hello?"

Michonne positioned her laptop just right when finding herself face to face with the-One. "Hello..."

"How are you, Michonne?"

"You pronounced my name correctly this time."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Starting off on the right foot." Rick mused.

"Preferable."

"Well, I am very excited to actually hear your voice."

"I have to admit you have a nice country twang."

"I do not."

"You do too, Richard."

"Call me, Rick."

"Okay, Rick. So you are originally from Georgia?"

"Born in King's County, Georgia."

"Never heard of it."

"What, my birth or King's County Georgia?"

"Both." Michonne laughed heartily.

"Well, my birth took place in King's County Georgia." Rick persisted with the fact.

Michonne was pleasantly surprised how quickly she was relaxed. To her, he was handsome and confident. She liked that about him right off the bat. She felt good and light. It had been a long time where she actually felt different. It made her very cautious at first. Her fear it was too good to be true eventually dissipated the more they talked over the phone or on Facetime. She liked the way he sat just staring at her even though it made her very self-aware. It wasn't awkward, but it did awaken her shyness. There was an instantly shared vibe between them. It alone was enough to make her heady and sometimes mute.

"I'm nervous."

"I have to admit, I am a little too."

"Have you been on Tinder long?" Michonne asked.

"A couple of weeks so far. Got my crash course not too long after joining. Initially, I was using it to find someone to start a relationship with, and my friend broke the news to me it was the wrong platform."

"I had the same mindset."

"I didn't know it's used to get laid. It makes sense since I was doing quite a bit of swiping left."

Rick pursed his lips together to stifle a chuckle. He was unable to hide his amusement at how her facial expression gave way to a youthful quality. The mood and tone were extraordinarily light, relaxed, not uptight.

"I've been told the same after I swiped your picture."

"After. So we are not going to get laid, huh?"

"Ummm." Michonne was slightly uncomfortable. Her mind went blank. She wasn't prepared for any sexy talk. It wasn't her thing, and she had noted it in her Bio.

Rick swallowed. He had hoped he wasn't crossing any boundaries or making her uncomfortable. The awkward silence caused him to reveal something he had no intentions in doing at first.

"If you want to know the truth, I swiped you before knowing what Tinder was used for."

"I did the same." Michonne smiled, slightly relieved.

Rick felt the need to ease her fears or reservations about him or wanting to get to know him.

"I am not superficial or looking for one thing."

"I am not superficial or looking for one thing either. I have to admit, you are very handsome in that photo dressed in a suit."

"Yeah?"

"Very distinguish."

"I am. That I am." Rick felt free enough to chuckle.

"I was surprised we matched."

"It's like winning the jackpot."

"I can't believe you have a hard time with dating."

"Believe it or not, I don't. I'm picky. Very selective. I am not your average guy either."

"Picky huh?"

"I am. Have to be. Some people want to exploit or looking to be rescued. I want a woman that is strong on her own. Accomplished. Has her own things and her own identity."

Michonne smiled. For a moment she was lost in her head and in her thoughts when he spoke again.

"You looked very beautiful in your before and after. How long ago did you cut your hair?"

Michonne's hand instantly went to her head, touching her hair where dreads were no longer in the way.

"A few weeks ago. I had dreads for years."

"What made you cut them?"

"My mental state wasn't it's best during and after my divorce. I will say I had remorse and I got over it. I realized I had to put myself out there to see what kind of happiness was waiting just for me."

"With or without you look fantastic. Also, your confidence is attractive and plays a major role I can tell."

"I am eating this up. Flattery is tasty."

"I can keep you well fed in that department."

"There goes my self-esteem. It was already high. It is now through the roof."

"Self-esteem or was that your ego?"

"Ha."

"My favorite picture is the one with you wearing that black skirt."

Michonne knew he was referring to her Pencil Skirt.

"Thank you."

"Are you still on Tinder?" Rick asked. He had already deleted his and had no way of really knowing if she had unsubscribed.

"I deleted my profile."

"Me too. I do want to be upfront and honest about my intentions."

"Okay."

"I've been waiting on this person I met before meeting you. I've been waiting for her to agree to chat on Facetime or at least by telephone. Right now it is this insane amount of texting back and forth. I am not one who likes texting."

"Have you told her this?" Michonne laughed.

"She has my number. She text. I call her, and I get her voicemail. I leave a message. She text."

"Maybe she's not that into you?" Michonne said teasingly.

"I've thought of that. I am okay with that. I'm not heartbroken about it. I will move on."

"What if she's the one?"

"If she were I wouldn't be on Facetime with you."

"I appreciate knowing that. It would make it very difficult to motivate me to continue this Facetime business knowing you would rather be talking to her."

"Her hesitation has given me time to think about what I do want."

"What's that?" Michonne asked.

"I am only looking for a possible friendship."

"Friendship?" Michonne questioned. She was internally cross-eyed.

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Did I say something wrong?" Rick was confused by her tone.

"No."

"What are you looking for?"

"A happy ending."

* * *

Two months later Michonne realized in a roundabout way he was really telling her he had someone he was more attracted too. And in the meantime, he was open to being friendly with her until things were a go with the other person. He was referring to the blonde that he was out to dinner with the night she drove to his home to confront him.

 _Instead, she found herself in front of his home, out of gas, with a dying cell phone and no charger in sight. Her purse was sitting on her credenza by the front door 10 miles away, and that was the shortcut using the expressways._

Inside his home, he silently led Michonne into a well-appointed gourmet kitchen with the very top of the line appliances. Rick motioned for Michonne to take a seat at one of the six kitchen stools. He searched for an adequate alcoholic beverage. The beer was the only thing the fridge was stocked with, that and several bottles of wine. Other than that it was a kids dream, juice boxes, soda, and chocolate milk. He had offered her a bottle of Budweiser, and she had declined. He turned to see she wasn't sitting after he had motioned for her to do so. Rick grabbed two bottles anyway and brought them over to the kitchen island where he sat straddling the end stool. He took a gulp of the perfectly chilled brew.

Silence and distance were the only two things growing until he had finally spoken.

"Are you just going to stand?" Rick asked.

"Yeah," Michonne stated with her arms folded.

"You don't want to relax? We can go into the other room if you prefer the couch." Rick motioned with the hand that was holding the beer bottle to the area that was off the kitchen.

"What about your wife?"

"Ex-wife. She has been staying with her new boyfriend."

"I didn't know this wasn't your place." Michonne was sincerely apologetic.

"If you _HAD_ would you have avoided crashing the gate?"

Rick was determined to find out how crazy and volatile she could get.

"I am sorry about your gate."

"Do you want to have a seat?" Rick asked again.

"No."

"Do you plan to stand all night?"

"I am not staying here all night."

"I want you to stay. I would like for you to stay."

"Then that's different." Michonne conceded. She began to unfold her arms.

"How?" Rick had to fight his amusement.

"An official invitation is different than assumptions. I have been making plenty of them, and it has seemed to have made things worse than better."

"Here. Come here." Rick was offering her a beer.

Michonne stepped closer to stand between his legs while he removed the bottle cap. She took a quick sip before placing it on the Corian countertop next to his half full brew.

Rick took her hand and played with her fingers. Neither one of them breaking eye contact.

"How crazy are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I fall for you I need to know how crazy you can get."

"If?"

"Yeah. _If_. You have a problem with that?"

"Yes, a big problem with that. I am not crazy. I am passionate about how I feel. I need resolutions or a conversation seeking solutions. I am not good at goodbye when you had me at 'Would you facetime with me, and your sleepy Good Mornings."

"All it took was Facetime and Good Morning?"

"In that order, yes."

"This..."

"Yes. I am talking about that. It can't be my imagination."

"I would have to then admit that I am crazy too."

"How crazy are you?" Michonne asked him. Both of them not realizing that any form of honest expression could sometimes be seen as crazy, looney or unhinged.

"I told you I had met someone. I didn't hide anything from you. I had met her first. She finally became available to meet. We met. I met her."

"I don't understand how you can still go and see someone else after you and I have slept together, Rick. Did it mean anything to you?"

"I got the shit kicked out of me. I let a man, equal in height get a few in because I didn't want his children to see me kick his ass. I didn't want the mother of those very children to see a side of me that would have taken him out. It wasn't the sex that meant something to me, Michonne. It was the everything else. The Facetime and the Good Mornings. It was that too, for me."

"Why didn't you answer my calls?"

"You called me twenty-three times. What was that about?"

"I needed answers, Rick. I need to know if I am wasting my time. I can't seem to get a straight answer from you. There are moments I think we are on the same page and then you go out with someone else."

"Michonne, I was upfront with you. I had swiped Jessie first. We haven't had a chance to get to know each other as intimately as you and I have because she had a lot of things going on in her life. She was waiting for things to calm down. I was waiting for things to calm down for her, and while waiting, I met you."

"Where does that leave me?"

"I left her to be with you. I am with you. You are in my house. We are together. It can't get any clearer than that."

"That's now. Tomorrow..."

"We are going to take care of my gate and your car. The last thing I need is my EX-wife asking me what happened and why."

If Rick could avoid it, he wasn't about to divulge details regarding Michonne's presence inside of his home to his ex-wife. There were still some things that needed airing out between him and Lori. Lori would ask questions and he would have to answer them to her satisfaction. He knew enough about Michonne but not enough that would satisfy Lori's interrogation.

There was something in the way Michonne didn't hesitate in their kiss once Rick leaned forward to take her lips, her mouth, nice and slow with his lips, his mouth, and tongue. She didn't resist him or put up an unnecessary fight. She wanted him to kiss her. If he was thinking _for one moment_ he was going to resist Michonne until he got a clear picture of how crazy she could get-that answer would have to wait with Michonne standing as close as she was to him. Purposely stripping her clothing away, leaving only her red bottom shoes that made her appear so much taller and it also provided the right amount of height for what he wanted to do by turning her where she no longer faced him.

Rick had Michonne butt naked in his kitchen. He pounded her insides with a force she accepted readily and willingly. He maintained his balance on the kitchen stool he straddled while his pants dangled around his ankles. The echoes of grunts and moans along with the slapping of skin were all that it took to heightened the moment. There wasn't any need for music.

Eventually, they carried their carnal desire into a spare bedroom. Michonne successfully scooped up her clothes before Rick lifted her off the tile floor. Inside the large space and upon the king bed Rick masterfully suckled the back of her neck while spreading her thighs apart. He was going to continue with his favorite position that was similar to the hot seat but upon the bed, doggy style.

Soon Rick began to feel he was unable to get enough of her in any position. In his mind, her pussy was weirdly adjusting and readjusting. It was amazing. It was incredible. He was very interested in making it _HIS_ pussy if she would just tell him how crazy she can get.

* * *

A/N: (CHAPTER 10 EDITED AND UPDATED) 12/12/2018 10:28am

Original Author's note below:

Plan to update more consistently. That is the plan.

P.S. Congratulations to those fanfic authors who were recognized for their awesome talents for 2018 on Tumbler! Also best wishes to Siancore!


	11. Good VS Amazing

_"When a family breaks you don't hear the crack of the breaking. You don't hear a sound."_  
 **― Judy Blundell, Strings Attached**

* * *

A moment of indecision struck Rick unexpectedly. It didn't last long because he knew Michonne had no means of escape other than on foot. He was bound to catch up with her in either direction she would decide to take upon leaving so abruptly from his home. It was something he found very alluring about Michonne; she wasn't indecisive in the least.

"You-so-very much have a type." Lori accused. Her tone was wry as was her expression.

Rick focused on his ex-wife after catching confusion on his children's faces when he didn't dignify her quip with a response. They were all waiting for an explanation.

"What happened to your face, Dad?" Carl's could not contain his curiosity. The bruising on his father's face was prominent. He was concerned.

"What you saw him doing in the bedroom would happen to your face. Remember that." Lori spoke offhanded hoping her explanation would be a deterrent for her young son.

"I had a little incident. Nothing to worry about."

"Are you okay, Daddy? Do you want me to get you some Arielle bandaids?"

"Incident?" Lori was slightly derailed. She was very concerned.

"As I said, nothing to worry about, I'm okay. I'm fine."

Developed from their years of marriage, the two people perfected a level of communication to indicate to the other to tread lightly for there were children listening. Lori instantly knew the details could not be overheard by Carl and Judith. She could see with her own two eyes that her ex-husband Rick had either been in a horrible accident or a fight.

"I'm going to step outside and bring her, Michonne back inside to wait for me to wash up and make some phone calls."

"Whose car is that, Rick?"

"It is hers. It was an accident."

"Were you two fighting?"

"A misunderstanding."

"Between you two?"

"Another party."

"Why would she crash the gate down? Or maybe I don't want to know?" Lori lifted her hand ready to surrender to the insanity of the day.

"She had mistaken drive for reverse," Rick repeated what Michonne had explained to him.

Rick found it very difficult to believe what Michonne had told him was the actual truth. The number of calls and text he received from Michonne indicated she was very erratic. Rick tried his hand at selling it to Lori. Based on Lori's next response he knew she wasn't buying it without further explanation of Michonne's mental state and his own.

"I don't have time to ask a thousand questions to finally get the full story. I am not doing this with you, Rick. It reminds me of asking you if you cheated-.

"Stop it, Lori. Just fucking stop it. I don't owe you an explanation at this point. You got questions that have nothing to do with right here and right now."

Rick had to stop Lori from going down memory lane. Her attempt to make this situation about her and everything she had to endure wasn't going to deter him in keeping focused on getting outside and dragging Michonne back inside if he had to carry her kicking and screaming over his shoulders.

"I do actually."

"Well make it good." Rick challenged his ex-wife.

"Is she your new Girlfriend or part of a string of them where I need to call first before coming home with our children?"

"There is no string Lori. Haven't been for a while. Just one woman. She's outside right now probably wondering when I am going to stop her from walking away." Rick paused for a split second. "What is that popping sound?"

Rick questioned what had already alerted his children to seek out the source

"I smell smoke," Lori could see from where she stood a dark gray plume going upward contrasting against the blue sky from the high windows above that gave a great view from the second story to the outside if she were standing upstairs..

"Fire! Fire!" Carl exclaimed running from the front window towards his parents.

"Stop. Drop. Roll!" Judith exclaimed happily as she did each act that she remembered from her private school instructions.

* * *

"I still haven't figured out how crazy she can get."

"A better question for you is how crazy does she make you? Try that one on for size."

Shane had already stepped out from his shower with a towel wrapped around his waist while Rick remained in the open doorway of the bathroom shared by three men.

"I'm not crazy." Rick asserted.

"Then how are you to understand how crazy she can get if you ain't-a little bit nuts yourself?"

"Fucking good question." Rick scratched his head. He had to admit Shane had a very good point.

"I've yet to run into our good friend." Shane put away his electric shaver after splashing his face with aftershave.

"Our good friend?"

"Your ladyfriend's ex-husband, Mike. The one who kicked your ass."

"Our good friend?"

"Not going to make any promises."

"It is my fight. You and Ty have no bone in this."

"True. But we are bros. If I see that asshole, I will kick his ass for kicking yours. I just need you to hurry and bail my ass out of jail when I call you."

"He'd dropped the charges."

"How was he able to have you charged for anything inside of his ex-wife's home?"

"His wife Andrea had told him about the notebooks that were all dated before I had even met Michonne. He obviously didn't know who I was and if he had, he would have, at least I hope, thought twice."

"Dropped the charges, huh?" Shane was relieved for Rick.

"Her ex didn't have a choice. No evidence. Everything was fabricated and without any merit. Except for him shoving the police officer. He is still dealing with his assault on an officer."

"My opinion still holds. Michonne is a fucking liability. Evidenced by the notebooks where she kept details of ways she wanted to kill her husband and his new wife. That my friend is a woman with an active imagination if wronged by a lover. That my friend is a woman, who is worthy of a full en-suite on the top floor of the looney ward."

"The new wife was her best friend." Rick offered a bit of Michonne's mental state or motive most people would possibly relate too.

"Kind of like us. The only difference, I wasn't planning on fucking your ex-wife Lori and believe it or not I expect the same from you with my ex-Anne."

"Anne and I-Anne and me-." Rick began to protest.

"I know, I know. She's white. Not your type." Shane waved him off through the mirror where he spoke with his back turned to Rick.

Rick denied the insinuation and the downright accusations to Shane's very last statement only.

"Lori had said the same damn thing, and I am not sure how two in between a lengthy span of each other consist of a certain type. If anything it should show I don't have a particular _Type_."

Rick had only been with two African American women.

If the term women of color were used he would have factored Rosita. But the two weeks with Rosita didn't count nor did the official hookups with women who were every variation of brown from when he was actively hooking up on Tindr count.

Only twice did a woman cause him to want to rethink his life. Sasha and Michonne. The others he was determined to take to his grave. He was going to fight tooth and nail or flat out deny it if he was ever exposed for his fetish. He was going to be the only living soul who knew without a doubt his secret kink had officially evolved into a highly acquired preference.

"Well, your type must be great in bed. Like fucktastic. Women like that are the worst. It's like their pussy is a line of coke for the dick. You are going to need to go cold turkey or-."

"You've been through this before?"

"Every man has had pussy that likes pussy. Pussy comes in more than old pussy and new pussy. I am going to keep looks out of it. Just pussy talk. Okay?"

Rick immediately referenced Michonne in his mind. He spoke unaware that he did, "I think she's beautiful."

"Keeping looks out of this conversation. Follow what I am saying for fuck sakes. Emotions too..."

Rick wondered to himself if anything would actually apply to him and his predicament with Michonne. She was the one keeping him awake at night, unable to focus in the day. Michonne induced a boatload of emotions for him to wade through including a strange need to become overly possessive during sex. He was on a three-day break from Michonne due to the grocery store incident. Rick had his doubts if he could hold out much longer from contacting her. His brain had analyzed every possibility of moving on, but his dick was proving to have a much greater influence. His nightly erection made his morning wood practically unbearable. He thought of Michonne from sun up to sun down. He could not think clearly. Nor focus.

"...I have had the smelly pussy. Dry pussy. Warm pussy. Tight pussy. And a combination of what I just mentioned. Not counting the time she didn't have a real pussy..."

Rick recalled every detail of that Thailand story Shane had shared a few years back.

"...It is when your dick finds that exceptional balance, you have no choice but to lose your mind. Two types of pussy can cause it to happen, first _good_ pussy and the _amazing_ pussy."

"Sounds like they are one and the same."

"No, not at all. _First_ _good_ pussy is the virgin territory _or_ newly acquainted to having sex with no more than three people. Out of the three one of them has a better pussy. Not really much to compare but good enough, you marry it or keep it around past the expiration date because you think it may be good again. Over half the population lives this way. Now, _Amazing_ pussy will have you fight for it, go to jail for it, keep it barefoot and pregnant, marry it till death do you part."

"I'm not looking to go down any aisle again."

Shane was skeptical. He paused from styling his hair to grip the sink bowl. Rick's shit was annoying. Denial, denial, denial.

"Sex with amazing pussy will have you up and down a Whole Foods aisle pushing a grocery cart with her, stealing kisses between the organic baby food and the feminine products."

Rick swallowed. What Shane had just served in that last sentence was difficult for him to digest. Did he have spies?

"So who has the amazing Pussy, Sasha or Michonne?" Shane already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear Rick confirm everyone's suspicion regarding how serious he was about the woman he spent a good deal of time with even in public.

"Why are you asking me that?"

"Curious to which one has you losing your mind is all."

"Are you saying I am crazy?"

"The moment you questioned shit a woman says the moment you've gone over the deep end."

"I'm crazy." Rick response was more a statement than a question.

"The first step is to admit."

"How is it I am crazy, though?"

"The moment you asked Tyrese some shit about what does a woman mean when she wants a happy ending sounds like you have gone off the deep-in. Ask another woman what she considers a Happy Ending. Hell, ask Michonne to give you the answer to what she is looking for from you. What doesn't make sense is to ask another man for insight about it when we are hardwired to block out the whims of women. For men a happy ending equals, a brew when we reach for one, a lighter for a cigarette, an ex who has moved the fuck on, a yes you can nut inside of me, condom, no condom."

Rick was stunned into confusion.

Shane continued, "You don't ask a group of guys about what a woman means when she tells you she wants a happy ending. You just don't. You should go an ask a woman. Ask Lori. I bet her happy ending would have consisted of 75% going to her in your divorce settlement."

"Or she wished she was still married to me." Rick offered in defense to what he still considered a good marriage despite their issues.

"Or me."

"Fuck you, Shane."

"She wanted to fuck me. Now you too?"

"Damn it. Leave Lori out of this. Nothing at this point has anything to do with Lori. I've moved on. Lori has moved on. I'm not sure why you felt the need to take it there."

Shane had to admit this was different. Lori was no longer a factor like before where his friend Rick would come to him for advice on how to Not cheat on his marriage with Sasha. This was the first time Rick had come to him for advice on how to move forward with someone new.

"You need to make a decision that is in your best interest. What's good for you. Doesn't matter how crazy she can get if you aren't out trying to make her crazy."

"First solid thing you've said."

"Bullshit!"


	12. Focus

_"Friends are a strange, volatile, contradictory, yet sticky phenomenon. They are made, crafted, shaped, molded, created by focused effort and intent. And yet, true friendship, once recognized, in its essence is effortless._

 _Best friends are formed by time._

 _Everyone is someone's friend, even when they think they are all alone._

 _If the friendship is not working, your heart will know. It's when you start being less than perfectly honest and perfectly earnest in your dealings. And it's when the things you do together no longer feel right._

 _However, sometimes it takes more effort to make it work after all._

Stick around long enough to become someone's best friend."  
 **― Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration**

* * *

"Why are you showing me this scene?" Michonne could barely keep up with a particular episode from the show "Sex and The City" that Titus wanted her to watch.

His squeals led her to believe something more nefarious was about to happen when Samantha offers to help Carrie fish out her Diaphragm.

"I really want to be your Samantha." Titus declared squeezing his pillow as they sat on his sofa in front of the television.

Michonne snatches the remote from the coffee table. She searched for the unmarked button that would either mute or turn off the television.

"What?" Michonne asked after finally finding the right button to silence the livingroom to Titus apartment.

"I really want to be Samantha for you."

"Help me here, Titus." Michonne was lost and confused by Titus's dramatics.

"I just can't. I can't be. I can be everything else to you. I have limitations as your forever Bestie."

Michonne snatches the pillow that Titus used to cover most of his face. "What are your limitations?"

"I can't take out your Diaphragm."

"Who in the hell is still using a Diaphragm? And why would I turn to you for assistance if I were using one and it was stuck?"

"I want to be your BFF. Your true ride or die. I mean, I know I can be. I love girl talk and the Amazon shopping that we do together. It's just that tomorrow is going to be a big day for you."

"What does my vaginoplasty surgery have to do with you?."

"Well, like I said I can find whatever you need off Amazon while you are healing. I also found some great people in the home nursing field. I have checked their references and their credentials. They are a few who are open to staying overnight to help you with the healing process. Even check the healing down below where a friend such as I can't bear to go."

"Are you serious?"

Titus nods. He wore the look of fear that Michonne wouldn't understand how much he abhorred the vagina including the Pink Venus Fly Trap that was on the brochure for Frankopussy by Eugene.

"I promise you I will need you for other things and never that." Michonnne tosses an extra pillow at him. "I've had children before. I'm positive I can handle this reconstruction."

"So?"

"You are still my bestie, Titus. I have no doubt you are my only Ride or Die."

Titus sigh of relief was felt by Michonne who grabbed his hand to reassure him even more about their odd friendship. Titus teary eyes made her teary-eyed.

"Do you want to go over the candidates I have found that will check up on your Kitty?" Titus brushed away his tears.

"Absolutely no one is coming inside of my home. I refuse to have a stranger staying overnight. Not going to happen. I have my phone. I have a house phone."

"Do you have 911 memorized?"

"Seriously?"

"Well...you need to check in with me every two hours. If I don't hear from you, I will call you in the third hour if no answer or response ambulance sent in the 4th hour. I have your do not resuscitate order at the office filed under-"

"Titus Cornwell Johnson!"

"Titus Andramedus to you. Get it right or don't say it at all. Do we have a deal and a plan of action?"

"Yes. We have a deal, a plan of action. But, I do want to be resuscitated."

"Well then sign here and here."

* * *

If Michonne could fade into nothing, she would have chosen to do so right then and there. Rick had literally lifted her up over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and brought her back inside of his home. This was done with the police and the fire department witnessing what seemed to be a mutual thing and with the EX wife waving their attention to focus on her, the grass, the bush and the one lone tree they were no longer concerned.

Michonne was hugging herself tight while she waited for the man who insisted he washes up first before leaving to take her home. She sat quietly while he took his four minute shower. From where he sat her on his sink Michonne had a good view of his nude body out-lined through the steamed glass. Her eyes roamed every inch of him. If things were different she would have joined him in a heart beat regardless of being instructed by him not to move from her very spot on the counter.

"Can it get any worst than this?" Rick asked drying himself off as fast as he could while standing in front of her. He was back to alluding to her sanity.

Michonne knew better than to answer a question that could tempt fate. Anytime she had in the past there was a way for Luck to run into Karma. The reality she wanted to maintain could easily turn into something much worse than the right then. It still did nothing for her mood until he kept kissing her. It was first her forehead. Her nose. Her lips.

Rick grabbed the spare toothbrush she had used from the side of his sink where he wanted to rest his palm while kissing her. He placed it into the toothbrush stand next to his.

"Now back to what we were doing."

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Put the toothbrush I used over there?"

"Well, it doesn't belong here." He demonstrated casually.

Rick was slightly confused but he moved to kiss her anyway, only landing on the corner of her mouth.

Michonne allowed him to eye her. She knew he was waiting for a response to her reaction to him.

"Talk to me."

"I've almost burned down your property. The fire marshall is outside talking to your wife about the damage, and my car towed. You still want to kiss me at a time like this?"

Rick nodded, "Yeah. Crazy huh?" This resonated.

"Are you admitting something?" Michonne smiled despite everything that had happened in a span of hours.

"I lost my mind for a second." This resonated.

"Yeah?"

Rick chuckled. It was going downhill. He changed topic to focus. "Give me two minutes to throw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt." Rick pressed a kiss to her cheek before rushing over to his opened walk in closet. He had forgone the towel. Modesty didn't exist.

"Do you normally keep clothes here?"

"I do. I keep a few things here and at my other place in the city."

"The place you stay with your roommates?"

"Yeah."

"Why do you still have things here?"

"Sometimes we co-parent this way. When our schedules line up."

"You still have sex with her?"

Michonne couldn't see the surprised look on Rick's face. He answered without hesitation.

"Not in a long time. Almost a year."

"Were you going to get back together at all."

"Nope."

"It doesn't confuse things between you?" Michonne thought back to the early point in discovering her husband's affair and how she thought by still having sex with Mike they were going to get back together or that they were some how still together.

"Nope." Rick's tone was definitive.

"I would be confused." Michonne admitted.

"I know."

"Will you still?"

"Still what?"

"Keep things here, your clothes and things?"

"This is my house, Michonne. Lori has less than two months to find a place. It is part of our divorce agreement."

"Will you still have sex with her at some point."

"At what point would that be exactly?"

"The same point that it happened before."

Rick raised an eyebrow and peeked over at Michonne from the closet doorway.

"I didn't know you existed when I was having sex with my Ex-wife."

"That is not an answer."

"Then my answer is Nope."

"Nope?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Didn't you say you would be confused?"

"Very."

"That's my answer. Because you would be confused."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Michonne, the only time my ex-wife and I found ourselves in bed with each other we were in between relationships with other people. I wasn't planned. It happened. I was happy to oblige. She was happy to oblige."

"Oh my God." Michonne felt this was too much information for her to handle.

Rick continued despite how uncomfortable Michonne was becoming with his honest response to a past situation that didn't apply to the right then and now.

"Things are different now. They have been different for a while. I am speaking for myself. I can't speak for Lori. I'm at a point in my life where I want to be in a one on one relationship. I want that. I'm only made for that. We've had this conversation before about going back with our exes. Going back to Lori is not an option or a choice I would make. Damage has been done, and there isn't any way to make amends for all the shit and all the pain. Do I still need to make this any clearer for you?"

Michonne nodded. She watched him walk closer to her until he was standing between her legs.

"Okay. My Ex doesn't do it for me. Is that better?"

"Who does it for you?"

"You do. I say this after having met you. I say this after being with you. I say this even though you have been stalking me."

"What?" Michonne was surprised by what he had said. His accusation was accurate, but he wasn't supposed to know or make her aware that he knew.

Michonne squealed when he suddenly lifted her up and off of his sink counter. Upon standing so close, she found herself momentarily lip-locked and dazed.

"Rick, I am coming in," Lori announced on the other side of the closed bedroom door. Michonne was loud enough to be heard from the bathroom. Lucky for Rick he had his clothes on when Lori barged inside.

Lori caught sight of them moving apart. She witnessed her ex-husband take the hand of the woman to whom he had introduced as Michonne. Lori had waited in the short period from finding him face deep in between the other woman's legs to the sudden blaze to define it. Not once did he make any reference to her as his girlfriend even though the signs indicated she was someone he was very fond of if not enamored. What ever it was or however he would define it Michonne was the first female Lori had ever found inside their home. Being aware of this tiny nuance was surprisingly disconcerting for Lori.

"The fire department has left along with the police. I have someone scheduled to come out and see if the driveway can be pressure washed or resurfaced. I also have the company that installed the gate on their way today."

Rick pulled out his wallet and offered Lori his credit card to have all charges settled immediately.

"Where would I send the itemized sheet? The same address you gave the Fire Department, Ms. Michonne Benton? A highrise in the city is your best contact or mailing address?"

The addition of _Benton_ threw Rick for a loop. Michonne Benton. He was going to give this information to Glen to do a thorough investigation.

From the police report, Lori had a few pertinent details about Michonne who seemed to be studying her. She knew Michonne's address, and what she did for a living. Michonne wasn't a whore and the giveway was the red-bottom shoes before finding out her occupation. What Lori wasn't aware of was that she knew more about Michonne than her Ex-husband Rick.

Michonne had some words that were ready to spill forth, but she held her tongue, and the only reason she did was her inability to gauge how to strike Rick's ex-wife where she would know to back up, back off. She didn't know if subtle would work nor did she want to make a bad situation worse by catty behavior. At some point in time, she would hope they could have a conversation under different circumstances where she could gauge Lori's intelligence before giving her a pass, a nice nasty or go complete savage.

Rick immediately sensed the energy. He appreciated the fact that Michonne wanted him to handle his ex.

"There will be none of that, Lori."

Before Lori could respond to the pair, Carl and Judith entered the room.

"We are ready, Dad," Carl announced.

"Ready?" Rick was surprised to see his son holding two suitcases: the pink one belonging to Judith.

"We are going with you, but Mom thinks because now you have your first girlfriend ever-you won't hold up to your end and spend time with us."

"This is your week, Rick," Lori informed. "I told you about the trip to Australia way in advance. You promised."

"Choose us! Choose us! Choose us!" Judith chanted repeatedly marching in a circle.

Rick lifted his hand showing his index finger, and it temporarily silenced his daughter Judith.

"I have no problem with taking my kids, Lori. What I need is some time to take Michonne home. Maybe help her with finding another vehicle. Sort through some things."

"Mom said you would choose her over us." Carl's face fell along with Judith's.

"That is not what your father is doing. What your father is doing is setting up expectations once we set foot outside this home. He's taking me home. He wants to help me find another vehicle, but I will find my own vehicle." Michonne looked from the two kids to Rick and then back, "This relationship is new and confusing to us as it will be to you and my children. Your Dad and I have talked, but we haven't really talked about what we want this thing between us to look like."

"We haven't talked?" Rick questioned. He couldn't hide the surprised look on his face upon hearing there was going to be more to their conversation at some point than having any qualms with her addressing Carl.

Lori was another story.

"I would like to officially invite you and your sister to my home." Michonne offered.

"Really?" Rick questioned Michonne.

"Really."

Lori was siding with how she thought Rick would feel about having their children around someone that may be temporary. She was helping Rick with how to take the children but limit the interaction.

"Rick would have to be okay with taking our children over to your home but if he is dropping you off I don't see the harm."

Michonne could see right through Lori's ploy. She knew exactly what the ex was doing. What Michonne didn't expect was for Rick to not fall for it.

Inside the large garage, Rick loaded up the car seat for Judith inside of his black Bentley. Judith was secured and Carl's seatbelt was buckled.

Rick asked, "Are you really okay with this?"

"Why would your ex-wife be okay with this?"

"Trust me she is not."

"My trust isn't in her. I trust you will make it clear for all involved from this point forward."

"The fire helped with how blatant. My kids getting in the car will practically seal the deal."

"Seal the deal in what way?" Michonne paused getting inside of the car while Rick held the door open waiting for her to slide in the passenger seat.

"This."

"This what?" Michonne wanted clarification.

"That this _is_ different."

"There is a particular word I am waiting to hear you use to describe it."

"Fiery, hot, destructive to the point of searing the soul, Mich."

"I was referring to one word, and you haven't touched on it other than shortening my name to Mich." What Michonne wanted to hear was for him to actually call her his girlfriend.

"Right now I can only think of you as my Media Naranja. Do you have a problem with that my Media Naranja?"

"No problem, Bae. I will gladly be your other half."

Rick became speechless. He was stunned. He was expecting to explain the term he learned while in Spain with Rosita over a year ago.

Media Naranja never felt more right than right then and now. For Michonne to understand its intended meaning was fascinating to him as was her term she applied to him, ' _Bae_.'

* * *

"He called you what?"

Titus stopped squeezing pulling at his earlobes, ensuring he heard her right or that he was hearing her as clearly. "Please tell me you called him everything but the son of God..." Titus pursed his lips waiting for details that he wouldn't get if he continued talking.

A term of endearment or even a nickname falling from her lover's lip had Michonne still swooning.

Michonne always wanted a term that referred to her. She had Titus who provided her with the Honey, Sweetie, but it wasn't the same. Whenever her ex-husband would refer to her when they were married, it was always serious. Formal. Michonne.

Somehow Rick put a much-preferred voice to it when he said Mich. She didn't feel any offense like she would have if it were a stranger or a random acquaintance. This was different.

"I'm not sure what came over me when I called him Bae. Like alright Bae, I will be your other half. Like I see what you did right there." Michonne emphasized by winking.

Titus had to slow himself from getting riled and offended on behalf of what he thought he heard. What he thought he had heard wouldn't have any woman he knows reference back said offender as, Bae or being their other half.

"What foolery are we discussing? What did he actually call you?"

"He called me Mich."

"Girl!" Titus had to collect himself before he spoke again. "...Honey...I thought you said, Bitch. That makes more sense in a long around the moon and back to earth kind of way. It took a while for me, but I understand now. I mean I want to understand. I do. I don't. Help me."

"My name is Michonne."

"Okay. I am really concerned. Your shit is creeping over to our livelihood. We have work to do and clients who are looking for a get out of jail free pass that only you can create for them. Based on the way your acting a few will do some serious time if you don't snap out of it."

"I am in love with him. Like crazy head over heels and he's so damn nice it's disgusting. I want to crawl into bed with him and never leave."

"Great example of you admitting how this is creeping into our livelihood. Can you repeat that once I turn on the recorder?"

"He bought me a car."

"Wait, what?"

"The exact replica of the one that caught fire." The Mercedes was Michonne's absolute favorite vehicle to drive.

"Tell me you aren't giving it back."

"Of course not, Titus. Very rude to give back gifts."

"Does he know you have plenty of cars? You are practically a dealership at the house you have in Florida?"

"Speaking of that, we are only accepting cash or credit cards. I am no longer bartering my services. All I Need is for the IRS to find a reason to audit things that are tangible."

"Honey, I stopped that a long time ago. Just like you and I are both strictly dickly we are strictly and without doubt cash or credit."

"He said, Media Naranja." Michonne sighed resting back into her large leather office chair.

"You are going to nuke this. Do you realize what you are doing? I want you to stop. Stop it right now. I can't take it when your brain goes to mush. I am going back to my desk."

Titus walked five feet and sat. He began typing his usual speed of a hundred words per minute without errors in spelling or punctuations.

"I thought it takes time to come up terms of endearment."

"He's comfortable, and Mich isn't a stretch. What's the meaning of Media Naranja? Sounds Greek."

"Half of an orange."

"Get out of town." Titus exaggerated his tone before sighing. He didn't stop typing.

"No, it's not Greek." Michonne laughed.

"Might as well be, I only speak English fluently, anything else haphazard and it is utterly embarrassing. What was your response again?"

"Okay, Bae. I will be your other half." Michonne smiled dreamily.

"Can we please get back to work? You have two trials scheduled practically on top of each other and a closed-door arbitration that I am trying to squeeze in before you leave here for the courthouse down the street."

* * *

A/N: (Corrections made 12/17/2018 at 12:44am) I will review at a later time for any additional errors.

Prior:

A/N: I will make corrections after posting this chapter. If I do it the other way, I promise nothing will ever get updated or posted.


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